


Here Comes Trouble

by loudmouthgeek



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, F/M, Troubletones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-12-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loudmouthgeek/pseuds/loudmouthgeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU | In which Brittany, Santana and Mercedes reform the Troubletones and head to LA (with Sam in tow) to try to make it as a girl group, while Brittany films their journey for an online webseries documenting the struggles they face trying to make it in the industry as women of color, different sizes and/or sexual orientations</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day One - Introductions

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Troubletones](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/13314) by mylittlefaith. 



“So it’s Day One, I'm your host Brittany S. Pierce,” she said pointing the new video camera her parents bought her for graduation towards herself, “I'm here with the best, most amazing girlfriend in the whole world, Santana Lopez.” She turned the camera on Santana whose eyes were firmly fixed on the road in front of them. “Say hi, Santana,” Brittany prompted.

“Hi,” Santana said glancing at the camera from behind the wheel only momentarily before looking back at the road.

Brittany turned the camera back to herself. “She’s usually way more talkative than that, but she’s driving right now and she’s focused on us not having a wreck. Our friend, Quinn, made us all promise to be safe driving on our trip. Hi, Q, we love you and we miss you.” Brittany quickly blew a kiss at the camera. “Also with us is our captain the awesome, awesome, awesome Mercedes Jones.” Brittany turned the camera to the backseat. “Say hi, Ms Jones.”

“What up, World?” Mercedes said and waved, “Hi Mom, hi Daddy, love you.”

Brittany turned the camera back on herself. “Mercedes, Santana, and I are The Troubletones, the newest and greatest girl power trio coming soon to the top of the Billboard Charts and sold out arenas near you. You may already know us from our smash hit viral video cover of Disco Inferno. If not, there will be a link in the description below. Although, I must say that the video quality and camera work on that particular video wasn’t all that it could have been and quite frankly should have been.”

“Hey!” came a shout from the back seat. “It was recorded on my iPhone. What do you want from me?”

“That’s our fourth for this trip,” Brittany said to the camera, “The Troubletones’ very first groupie, my assistant documentarian, Mercedes’ boyfriend, and the best lezbro money can buy, Sam Evans.” Brittany turned around in her seat to point the camera back at the boy seated behind her who was in fits of laughter from his introduction. “Say hi, Sammy.”

Sam suddenly shot forward in his seat to get very close to the camera and yelled, “ROAD TRIP!!!”

“Yes, that is very true,” Brittany said, “And to answer your question, Sam, I want you to show a little more respect the art of cinema. You are going to be my camera man for a lot of this trip. When we’re up on stage performing, I don’t think it’s ridiculous to expect a certain amount of misc-en-scene from your camera work.”

“I have no idea what that even means,” Sam said.

“You’ll learn,” Brittany said, “I loaded several lectures on the subject into my laptop for you to watch as well as a tutorial on how to use my camera. Our first Open Mic Night is tomorrow night so you may want to get on that.”

“Yes, boss,” Sam said with a huge smile and a sloppy salute.

Brittany turned back around in her seat and returned the camera to herself. “As Sam said we’re on what we’re calling ‘The Road Trip to Superstardom’. Three weeks, six thousand miles, nineteen states, Lima, Ohio to Los Angeles, California by way of some of the most important musical cities in the country, visiting musical landmarks by day and trying to get gigs at night. Along the way, I'm documenting what music means to us, what it’s like out here on the road for a band starting up on their own, doing it our way, and just… y’know, life. I’ll also be supplying you, our fans, with the history of The Troubletones, both personally and professionally, so be sure to subscribe to our channel so you don’t miss a single moment. And look out World…”

All four of them chanted out in unison, “Here Comes Trouble!”

_________

“That was terrible,” Brittany said matter-of-factly as she clicked off her camera, “You guys are gonna have to get a lot better at talking to the camera if we’re going to be superstar singers. Ellen and Jimmy Fallon won’t put up with your monosyllabic answers.” Mercedes and Santana looked chastened but said nothing. “And Sam, you gotta not steal the show, okay? We all love you but if our fans are more interested in you than us, it’s a problem. You gotta dial it down, okay? At least until these two find their personas.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Personas?” Mercedes asked.

“The person that you want to be to the rest of the world,” Brittany said, “You figure out how much of yourself you want the world to know and you build around that.”

“Britt, what are you saying?” Santana asked, “You want us to pretend to be someone we aren’t?”

“No, nothing like that,” she said quickly, “Just like, some people, when they’re famous, don’t want to talk about certain parts of their life. Like Raven from ‘That’s So Raven’, back a few months ago there were like rumors that she’s gay, but instead of saying yes or no, she said that it’s no one’s business. Then there’s other people like The Kardashians who put their whole lives out there for the world to see. You guys have just got to figure out if you want to be like Raven or The Kardashians or somewhere in between.”

“My life is an open book,” Mercedes said firmly, “Everything I’ve done, good and bad, has made me who I am, and I like who I am.”

“Yeah,” Santana agreed after a moment, “I spent years hiding all the most important parts of me. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“So would you guys be okay if I wanted to make this documentary something a little more serious than just us taking a trip across the country?”

“How do you mean?” Mercedes asked first.

“If in between shows or on days when we can’t find a gig or whatever, if I wanted us to sit down and talk about things, serious things, things like what it’s life to grow up black in a mostly white place or Hispanic or lesbian or bi-sexual or what it’s like to be bullied because of your weight or because people think you’re dumb…”

“You’re not dumb, Britt,” Santana said.

“I know that,” Brittany said, “Everybody in this car knows that, but there were a lot of people who think otherwise and weren’t afraid to tell me to my face and I want to address that at some point, and that’s what I asking here. Would you guys be willing to talk about those things on camera and have me post the videos on our YouTube page?”

Both girls stayed silent after this catching each other’s glimpses in the rearview mirror. They reflected each other’s concern. Mercedes then looked to Sam who smiled at her and nodded his head confidently. Mercedes spoke first, simply saying, “I’ll do it.”

Santana looked back at her slightly annoyed at the lack of solidarity from her fellow skeptic. Finally she said, “Is this important to you, Brittany? I mean, I know it is or you wouldn’t bring it up, but I guess I don’t really get the point of airing old grievances. I’ve let go of all that anger already. What’s the point in bringing it back up? Can you make me understand that, please?”

“It’s not about being angry about something,” Brittany said, “I'm not angry about being treated the way I was, not anymore, I just want the opportunity to talk about it, to put it out there for the world to see and I think you guys should do it too.”

“But why?” Santana asked.

Brittany was about to reply but Sam piped up first, “Because you’re not the only ones dealing with the issues that you’re going through,” he said.

“Exactly,” Brittany said, “San, you struggled so hard with being gay. How much would it have helped you to know that there was someone else your age, just like you dealing with the things you were dealing with?” Santana didn’t speak so Brittany continued, “I think we have the potential to be such an amazing force for good in the world. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’re gonna be famous. Don’t you want to make the world a better place? For Charity and for Stevie and Stacy?” Brittany said referencing her little sister as well as Sam’s younger siblings, “For our kids?”

“Okay, that is so incredibly unfair,” Santana said scoffing before shaking her head smiling.

“You don’t have to,” Brittany said, “It’s just an idea.” Again Santana didn’t speak, “I just think it would help people struggling with some of the same stuff as us, plus it would be us telling our story… on our own terms.”

“Fuck,” Santana said softly, “Yeah, okay. I’ll do it.”

“Are you really sure you’re okay with it?” Brittany asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I'm… y’know, not wild about putting a lot of emotional stuff out there for everyone to see,” Santana began, “but you’re right, we’re going to be big famous Grammy winning artists some day and everyone’s going to want a piece of us and I don’t want some record label dictating to me what we can and can’t tell people about ourselves. So yeah, the whole ‘tell our story on our terms’ thing, I'm in. I’ll deal with my discomfort.”

Brittany reached across the center console taking Santana’s free hand in hers and said, “Do you know how much I love you right now?”

“About as much as I love you,” Santana replied.


	2. Day One - Lima to Detroit

“Still Day One,” Brittany said into the camera. She was standing in the parking lot of a restaurant, “We left Lima, Ohio this morning and we are currently stopped for lunch in Toledo at Original Gino’s Pizza. They said I could bring the camera inside if I’d plug them so,” Brittany pointed the camera at the sign and said, “Original Gino’s Pizza with six locations in the greater Toledo area. Check Original Gino’s-dot-com for the location nearest you. We are dining at 3981 Monroe Street and everyone’s waiting on me so I'm headed in.”

_______________

When the camera clicked back on Brittany was sat next to Santana in a booth inside. “I’ve told you about the trip, so our first destination is Detroit, Michigan.”

“Motown!” Mercedes announced.

“The Motor City,” said Sam.

Santana leaned into Brittany looking into the camera, “To experience heaven on Earth,” she said.

“And by that,” Brittany said, “She means we’re going to see Adele in concert at the legendary Fox Theater.”

Santana pulled the camera to face her and said, “Because I am the most kick ass girlfriend ever!”

Brittany turned the camera back to herself, nodding, “She really is,” Brittany confirmed, “Today is a very important day. It’s Santana’s and my one year anniversary of being officially girlfriends.” Brittany wobbled her head and rolled her eyes. “It’s complicated. We’ll get around to it eventually. For now, Happy Anniversary, Santana.”

She turned the camera to face Santana who replied, “Happy Anniversary, Baby.” Santana quickly looked across the table and said, “You know you two are going to have to make yourselves scarce tonight, right?”

“And what if we don’t?” Mercedes challenged playfully.

“Then you’re gonna find yourselves locked out in the hall,” Santana replied, “listening to me worshiping my girlfriend’s beautiful body, which I'm sure Trouty would get off on, but what about you?”

Brittany pointed the camera at the other couple at the table. Mercedes face was still locked in challenge mode but Sam was laughing with his mouth full of water and hand held around his mouth and chin in case there was spillage. Brittany turned the camera back on herself and said, “Never fear, dear viewers, they do this sometimes. Santana and Mercedes are both Alpha Dogs so occasionally they butt heads to try to one-up one another. It’s a dominance thing.”

“Girl,” said Mercedes and Brittany quickly turned the camera back on her, “I know you did not just call me a dog.”  
Before Brittany could say anything Santana jumped in and again Brittany shifted the camera’s focus, “I know you didn’t just yell at my girlfriend!”

The camera remained focused on the two girls’ locked glares as Brittany narrated, “See, very Alpha, very possessive, ‘my girlfriend’.” She spun the camera back to herself again, “I don’t mind because I know it just means that she loves me.”

“Britt, stop giving away all my secrets,” Santana said off camera.

Brittany looked up at her, away from the camera still focused on herself, “Honey, that so the least embarrassing of your secrets I could give away.”

“Hot pizza!” called their server as she walked back over to the table.

Brittany looked back down at the camera and said, “You gotta see what we ordered, it’s the coolest thing!”

“Nine inch All Meat?” Mercedes raised her hand and the server settled her food in front of her. “Large Chef’s Salad?” Sam raised his hand as the girls all pointed at him. “So that would make this one yours then.”

“Check it out,” Brittany said as she lifted the camera to take in the pizza sat in front of them. “It’s a heart shaped pizza. How awesome is that?”

“Also Sam, the health freak, is eating a salad at a pizza place,” Santana mocked.

Brittany quickly shifted to Sam as he said, “Hey, you think this body maintains itself? You two may be settled for life, but I’ve got a woman to impress and keep interested.” Mercedes rolled her eyes at him. “Pizza’s horribly unhealthy.”

“Actually, it gets a bad rap,” Brittany said, “As long as you get the whole wheat crust and don’t go crazy with the meat, it’s not so bad.”

“Really?” Sam asked.

“Baby,” Santana said. Brittany panned over to her. “As much as I usually love listening to you school people about nutrition and, well, any other subject for that matter, will you please turn that camera off so we can eat?”

Brittany turned the camera back around and said, “San won’t eat while the camera is on.”

“And she gets grumpy when she’s hungry,” Mercedes said, “Like Grumpy the Dwarf-grumpy.”

“So I gotta go, see you soon.”

__________________

“Santana here,” she whispered as she worked to hold the camera still in a moving car. It wasn’t as easy as it looked. “We are currently stuck in afternoon traffic in Detroit. I have turned over driving duties to our pet boy.” She turned the camera on Sam in the driver’s seat. “After lunch we got molten lava cake for dessert and now my sweet Brittany is in a food coma.” Santana once again shifted focus to Brittany sleeping in her lap. “I just wanted to document this moment and I don’t know if the camera is going to pick it up over the sounds outside the car.” Santana stopped talking and held the camera a little closer to Brittany. Faint sounds could be heard coming for the smiling blonde girl. “Brittany hums in her sleep. It’s the cutest thing.” Santana held the camera there for several more minutes trying to pick up as much as she could before she eventually turned the camera back on herself. “Brittany, you’re the most amazing and wonderful person. I love everything about you.”

__________________

“This is our hotel room for the next two nights,” Brittany said, “Isn’t it insane?” She panned the camera around the room taking in the king sized bed, the large TV, the spacious bathroom. “We’re at the Double Tree in downtown Detroit, Michigan. Because it’s our anniversary, Sam and Mercedes are across the hall in their own room. Their view sucks compared to ours.” She pointed the camera out the window to take in the view. “Nice, huh? It’s about 3:30 right now,” Brittany said pointing the camera back at herself, “and Santana’s busy setting up whatever we’re doing tonight. She said we have plans before the concert which starts at eight.” 

“Since I'm just sitting and waiting, I thought I’d take a few minutes to show you what kind of equipment we’re working with here. I don’t know if any of you care, but,” Brittany pointed her camera at the mirror and continued, “this is what I'm using most of the time. This was a graduation present from my parents.” Brittany furrowed her brow as she read, “It’s the Sony HDR CX-190 High Definition Handycam. It’s really nice. I like it a lot. It’s got Steady Shot which is good because otherwise my hyperactivity would cause this whole thing to look like this.” Brittany shook the camera up, down, and side to side and giggled. She then turned and walked to the bed and pointed to the first camera she came to, “This is Santana’s Flip Cam. This is the camera that we’re going to try to smuggle into places that don’t want you to have video cameras… like the concert tonight. Then this,” she moved to the next one which was significantly bigger than her Handycam, “is the Canon XA10 Professional Camcorder. This is my dad’s, but he said we could use it on our trip as long as it was kept in only the most responsible hands, which is Dad Code for ‘don’t let Santana anywhere near it’ but that’s okay because it will mostly be Sam using it. It’s for recording us when we get gigs or open mic nights and stuff. It’s got an attachable boom mic and everything. And then we come to Santana’s laptop, which is nicer than mine, where I’ll edit everything we shoot into videos to post on YouTube.”

Brittany looked up and instinctively brought the camera’s focus up with her towards the door as the sound of the lock beeping announced the return of her girlfriend. When Santana pushed through the door her arms were loaded with many bags. “It’s date night, Sweetness,” she said, “Put the camera down, get your ass naked, and come get in this tub.”

__________________

“-so excited,” said Mercedes as she stared up at the marquee. Brittany kept the camera trained on their faces. She was pretty sure that she’d never seen Mercedes this excited, not even in New York junior year. Santana and Sam were just smiling and not saying anything.

Brittany turned the camera back on herself and said, “We’re here at the famous Fox Theatre in Detroit to see Adele… and someone named Melinda Rose, but we came to see Adele.”

From off camera Santana said, “I'm pretty sure everyone came to see Adele.”

“True,” said Brittany, “The Fox Theatre has hosted everything from stage musicals to movie premieres to Sesame Street Live. The Rockettes, Shirley Temple, Smokey Robinson, Frank Sinatra, and Elvis Presley have all performed here, and now we’re just a few short minutes from adding the name Adele to that list.”

“Hey, Britt, look here…” Santana walked around her quickly as Brittany tracked her movement, “Shoot like from a low angle so that you get me and the marquee.”

“Okay,” she said, moving into place.

“Look here,” Santana said and Brittany knew she had shifted into performance mode, “Up here on this marquee, where it says this chick’s name, Melinda Rose, a year from now that sign is gonna say ‘Adele, featuring The Troubletones’ and then in five years it’s gonna say, ‘Adele and The Troubletones, featuring… whoever’. Bank on it.”

“Ooh, Sam,” Brittany said, “Come get the camera. Mercedes, get in here with us.” Mercedes moved into frame and Brittany handed off her camera. “Same angle, Sam.” Brittany walked into frame so that she and Santana flanked Mercedes. “Do ‘Here Comes Trouble’ on three, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Sam, you got the shot?” Brittany asked. Sam gave her the thumbs up. “Okay, one… two… three.”

“Here Comes Trouble!”

“Awesome,”Brittany said reaching down to reclaim the camera. “Unfortunately, they won’t let us film the concert so we’re gonna have to leave this camera locked in the car, but we have San’s Flip Cam. We’re gonna try to sneak it in. We’ll see how it goes.”

__________________

“So we made it into the show with the Flip Cam,” Brittany said shouting over the den, “It was a close call. We originally had it in her humongous purse but then Sam spotted them doing bag checks and we didn’t know if they were looking for weapons or outside food and drink or cameras or what but we didn’t risk it. We wound up hiding it in Santana’s boobs instead, since I doubted they would be doing boob checks and even if they did, they’d be too distracted by Santana’s boobs to notice the camera.” Santana chuckled in the background. “I think we’re in the clear now because we aren’t the only ones to have a camera. I don’t know how much of this is coming through,” Brittany said, “Or how good the video quality is but honestly, right now, you aren’t missing much. This opening act lady… she’s not very good.”

“She sucks ass is what she does,” Santana said, “I'm curious as to who’s dick she had to suck and how many times to get this gig. Talent did not get her here opening for Adele.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we’re the only ones that think so, either,” Sam observed.

“Crowd’s gettin restless,” Mercedes agreed.

“Kinda glad we’re at a theater and not a regular concert hall,” Sam said, “Everyone’s seated here. At a concert hall right now I’d be starting to get worried for our safety. Upset concert goers sometimes get pushy.”

“Snix is gonna come out and start booing the hell out of this bitch pretty soon,” Santana said, “I did not pay good money to listen to this shit.”

“No Snix tonight,” Brittany said, “It’s our anniversary. Here, just cuddle with me instead.” Brittany pulled Santana closer until she leaned her head on Brittany’s shoulder. Brittany tangled their arms together and rested her head against the top of Santana’s and clicked off the camera.

__________________

“OH MY GOD!” Santana said her voice only barely audible above everyone else in the audience screaming at the same time. Adele had just taken the stage and the crowd was in an absolute uproar. Santana’s eyes were locked on the stage with a huge grin on her face. Her hands were clinched around Brittany’s left shaking it vigorously. Brittany was certain she’d never seen Santana so excited in her life, not for Cheerios champions nor Glee nor even graduation.

__________________

“That was amazing!” Santana said.

“Insane,” said Mercedes.

“Best. Concert. Ever,” Brittany said bouncing in excitement. She had already handed over the camera to Sam knowing she wasn’t going to be able to contain her excitement nor would she if she could. They were about halfway back to the car when she flung her arms around Santana and squeezed with all her considerable might. “God, San, I love you so much. Thank you for tonight.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetness.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Brittany said kissing Santana hard.

Sam turned the camera to Mercedes and said, “I’m really glad we have our own hotel room tonight.”

“No doubt,” Mercedes agreed, “We wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight otherwise. I shudder to think what the rest of this trip is gonna be like.”

“Splitting a room?” Sam said, “Yeah, we may have to work out a schedule for when who gets alone time when… and invest in some earplugs just to be safe”

“I'm really glad you’re with us, Sam,” Mercedes said smiling at him and the camera, “I think those two might drive me crazy without you.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, “I was trying to give them a minute of privacy without the camera in their business. I'm not sure they noticed.” He pointed the camera back at them still attached at the lips. “Hey, Santana,” he said, “You’re driving us back to the hotel.”

Santana broke off the kiss but Brittany just moved down to her neck, “What? Why?”

“It’s the only way I know to keep you from mounting Brittany before you’re in the privacy of your hotel room, and neither of us want to see that.”

Santana huffed and said, “You’re such an asshole. Give me the fucking keys.”


	3. Day Two - Detroit Walking Tour

Santana was awakened suddenly by a pair of soft lips pressed against hers and a familiar weight settled on top of her hips (which as ways to be suddenly awakened go, this was easily in the top three, the top two would involve those same lips being elsewhere on her). Her body reacted naturally, lips pressing back against those that had awoken her, hands migrating to hips that were definitely wearing more clothes than they had been last night (or rather earlier this morning, whatever). "Why are you not naked?" Santana murmured against Brittany's mouth.

"Cuz you're a big sleepy head," Brittany said with a giggle as she sat up, "I tried to start you up when I woke up but you begged me let you sleep."

"I don't remember that. Certainly doesn't sound like something I'd do," Santana said stretching, eyes still closed, "Show me the footage or it didn't happen."

"Sorry," Brittany said, "I didn't have my camera on you then."

Brittany's inclusion of the word "then" caught in Santana's brain and her left eye immediately popped open to look up at Brittany perched atop her with her video camera trained down on Santana. "Britt, what did I say about the video camera in the mornings?"

"You said not before you had coffee," Brittany said reaching over the bedside table, "but look, coffee."

"I also said not when I'm naked," Santana said.

"You're not naked," Brittany said, "You've got a shirt on."

"A thin tank top and no pants," Santana said.

"But you've got a bed sheet over your no pants and you’ve got me over the bed sheet," Brittany said, "Plus the camera is pointed at your head anyway. Your collarbones are barely in frame." Santana just groaned. "Don't complain to me," she said, "you opened this door when you recorded me while I was sleeping yesterday. Now get your sleepy butt up, we've gotta go work out."

"We just had a great work out last night," Santana said.

"Totally," Brittany said, "the best kind of workout too, but it was all cardio. You have to mix cardio with strength training to get the fat burn we need."

"We don't need to burn fat," Santana said, "All the fat we have is in good places." She brought one of her hands down very suddenly to swat Brittany's backside, "Like dat ass!"

Brittany yelped in surprise, "Well, thank you, baby, but you've actually just made my point for me. Dat ass only looks as good as it does because we work out all the time. Yesterday you and I ate a whole pizza, between lunch and later. Then during bath time we ate like eight chocolate covered strawberries, most of a thing of ice cream, and half a bottle of Champaign... a bottle that we finished off with the rest of the strawberries after the show. We've got some fat to burn."

"Too early," Santana whined.

"Too early? San, it's 9:30. Three months ago at this time we'd already have run four miles, done a hundred suicides, had a shower, and been in class by now... unless we decided to skip class that day."

Santana smiled, "Now that's what I'm talkin about." She tried to roll her hips against Brittany but she was pinned and Santana knew all too well that Brittany was stronger than her.

"Fine," Brittany said, "As soon as either of us has another class then we can skip it. Until then, drink your coffee and get up. It's workout time." Brittany slid off top of her. Santana groaned again. “Stop being a baby,” Brittany said, “You know you like it when I get all sweaty.”

"Can we shower together after?" Santana asked sitting up.

"Naturally," Brittany said, “Water conservation is very good for the planet and shower sex is very good for our relationship. That makes it win-win.”

____________

Ten minutes and a surprisingly decent cup of hotel coffee later, they made it to the gym to find that the four of them seemingly had the place to themselves. Sam and Mercedes were already there. Mercedes was doing her thing on an elliptical machine while Sam lay in the floor in front of her busting out crunches. Santana thought it was slightly weird how obsessed one guy could be with his own abdominal muscles. Like Mike Chang has this ridiculous six pack and Tina used to call him The Situ-Asian, but even he didn’t look at himself in the mirror like Sam does. She felt the urge to make a comment on it but figured that it was too early in the morning and too early in the trip to be picking pointless fights. That’s growth, right? Besides, nothing she said would change his weird self-obsession.

Aside from the elliptical occupied by Mercedes and an identical empty one right next to it, there were a line of stationary bikes and four resistance machines in the far corner and a lot of empty space in between, presumably for people to use for push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, yoga, whatever. 

“Brittany, turn that damn camera off,” Mercedes said between breaths not breaking her stride on the machine, “Don’t nobody wanna see us all sweaty and gross.”

“I was just gonna get a little bit of us working out,” Brittany said, “Just so our fans know that we aren’t all liposuctioned or anorexic. We work hard for our bodies and I want people to know that.” Mercedes still looked annoyed at the camera’s presence but didn’t say anything else. “But I’ll turn it off,” Brittany said, “I came here to work out which would be totally hard with the camera in one hand.” She switched off the camera, closed it, and looked at Santana, “Ready to do this?” Santana groaned one more time before she started.

After stretching, Santana and Brittany went to the strength training machines and were almost instantly confused. Neither of them had ever even seen a resistance machine before, much less used one. In their Cheerio days, most of their strength training had involved lifting other cheerleaders above their heads and building human pyramids. The rest of it was done on traditional weight machines. They looked at one another and then in unison called out, “Sam!”

As expected, Sam knew how to work the machine and quickly ran them through how to adjust it to suit themselves, some of which Santana picked up. She knew Brittany would pick up the rest of it… or well, all of it, because that was just how Brittany was, provided you explained in a way that she could understand which Sam seemed to have a knack for Santana noticed. Sure enough, after five minutes of instruction Brittany was operating the machine like an old pro.

They all worked out for a little over an hour in relative silence aside from them encouraging their respective partners. Afterwards, they headed back to their separate rooms to get cleaned up before heading out for brunch. Sam and Santana caught each other rolling their eyes at the very thought of brunch, but Mercedes and Brittany were excited about it and they both really, really like making their women happy so they promised them brunch.

Between taking showers… and y’know, shower sex, which Santana could totally tell Mercedes and Sam didn’t have, sucks for them… and getting to a restaurant, it was already after noon so really brunch was just lunch but they all had brunch foods and that satisfied everyone.

____________

“So last night we went to the historical Fox Theater,” Brittany said as Sam trained her camcorder on her, “But it’s far from the only historical music sight in Detroit. There are so many places we’d like to go and show you, but we’re only here for one more night and not all of the places are still in existence.” She held up a 5x7 picture and Sam zoomed in on it while Brittany narrated, “This is Cass Technical High School. It once stood at 2421 Second Avenue and huge number of musicians graced its halls including Alice McLeod, Dianna Ross, and Jack White, although not all at the same time, obviously.”

Brittany moved the picture to reveal another behind it. “This was the legendary Cobo Hall,” she said, “Technically it still exists as part of Cobo Arena but it doesn’t house musical events anymore. In its day it hosted everyone from The Grateful Dead to The Jacksons, and was a popular venue for recording live albums, Bob Seger, Kid Rock, Journey, KISS, and Madonna each recorded all or parts of their performances there.”

She flipped one more picture and said, “3927 Cass Avenue, the building is still there but CREEM Magazine is long gone. Billed as America’s Only Rock ’n’ Roll Magazine because supposedly everyone that worked there practiced the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle, drinking, getting high, and partying just as much as the rock bands they covered, CREEM was founded there in 1969 by Wayne State and Tony Reray but moved to the suburbs in the early 70’s and eventually to LA in the 80’s. The magazine was the one time home of legendary rock journalist Lester Bangs and was credited with coining both the terms ‘punk rock’ and ‘heavy metal’.”

Sam zoomed out wider to show an off-white building with blue awnings below a towering orange and white façade and all three girls standing in front of it. “We are here at 4140 Woodward Avenue at the historic Majestic Theater. Built in the early 20th century, this place has been a church, a photo studio, a movie house, a vaudeville venue, and starting in 1987, a concert hall. Throughout the 90’s and the early 21st century, it was a center point of the Detroit Garage Rock scene, the most famous names of which were The Von Blondies, The Dirtbombs, and of course, The White Stripes, all of whom played here many times. We’re about to take the tour and they’re even gonna let us film it, hope you enjoy.”

____________

“Hey, ya’ll,” said Mercedes, “I can’t believe I'm actually standing here and about to talk about this place.” Mercedes looked behind her, up at the church building she was standing in front of. She looked back to the camera with a huge smile on her face. “We’re at 8430 Linwood, at The New Bethel Baptist Church, the church home of the late civil rights leader, The Reverend C.L. Franklin. From this pulpit, Franklin led thousands to stand up for their rights in 50’s and 60’s and helped black men and women gain equal treatment in the United Auto Workers union.”

“You might ask what that has to do with music. The answer is simple. The Reverend Franklin was also the father of The Queen of Soul, Miss Aretha Franklin, who was a fixture at her father’s church and got her start singing here. We’ve got permission to come in and tour the church but not with the camera and since this is a church, we’re going to respect that and not try to smuggle one in.”

“Cedes,” Santana said from off screen.

“They said no, Santana,” Mercedes said.

“Fine,” Santana said with a huff. 

Brittany clicked off the camera and quickly stowed it away in the trunk of the car before the four of them made their way into the building. They took their time looking around the lobby at old pictures and newspaper clippings hung on the wall, the highlights of local Civil Rights Movement. Eventually they made their way into the sanctuary and found an older black man leaning against the edge of the first row of seats. “You the group they told me about?” he said.

“Yes, sir, I'm Mercedes Jones,” she said walking towards him with an outstretched hand. He met her halfway and shook her hand. Mercedes cringed at the powerful grip the man had. “These are my friends Santana, Brittany, and Sam.”

“I'm what you might call the caretaker. The name’s Marcus Garvey Hamilton,” he said crushing each of their hands in turn with handshakes. “I tell folks ta call me Marcus but most wind up calling me Ole Cus, on account I got a bit of a foul mouth on me, least I do when I'm not in the presence of ladies. So y’all here for a history lesson?”

“Sort of,” said Mercedes.

“Music history,” Santana clarified.

“Oh,” he said with a smile, “Y’all here cuza Miss Aretha.”

It wasn’t a question really but they all variously nodded and said, “Yes, sir.” 

He turned and walked to the edge of the stage and pulled himself up to sit on it while they all settled into seat in the front two rows. “Y’all want ta know about her?”

“Please,” Brittany said.

“The first thing ta know about her is, there ain’t nobody like her, elegant, kind, gracious, conscientious, sharp as a whip, beautiful, of course, inside and out,” he said, “All the young boys like myself where completely smitten with her, but none of us ever had the guts to do anything about it on account of she was the pastor’s daughter. Any o’ y’all ever seen her sing in person?” They all shook her heads. “I have, more times than I can count and I'm still one of the first ones on line for tickets when she comes around. I still remember the first time I ever heard her. I moved to Detroit in 19 and 52, started with the church a year and some later in 54. I was nine. I think Miss Aretha was about 11 or 12. She sang ‘Praise the Lord Who Reigns Above.’ You know that old hymn?”

“Praise the Lord who reigns above and keeps his court below,” Mercedes sang, “Praise the Holy God of Love and all His greatness show.”

“That’s the one,” Marcus said, “At that’s a mighty nice voice you got there. Y’all singers? That why y’all come here for music history lesson?”

Mercedes nodded and said, “I sing, or I guess used to sing, with my church choir back home, all of us were in this year’s National Champion Show Choir, and me, Santana, and Brittany are a pop/R&B vocal group. We’re taking a summer road trip across country going to musical landmarks and singing wherever will have us. Trying to get a record deal.”

“Well, it’s too bad you wasn’t here about forty years sooner,” he said, “Motown Records would have loved you.”

Mercedes smiled brightly, “That would have been amazing.”

“Y’all been out there on your Musical History Tour, The Motown Museum?”

“It’s out next stop,” Brittany said, “And considering the time probably our last.”

Marcus looked a little confused glancing at his watch. It was only a little after 3:30. “We’ve got an Open Mic Night tonight,” Santana said, “We have to clean up from our walking tour, eat dinner, and warm up our voices, plus we’re expecting to spend at least an hour at the museum.”

“Yeah, I’d say you girls got a full schedule,” Marcus said. He turned his attention back to Mercedes who was looking off in the distance past Marcus, “But I think before all that, this one is gonna have to get up here and do herself a number before she’s too shy and let’s this opportunity pass her by.”

Mercedes’ eyes went wide, her mouth drooped open, “Are you serious?”

“I don’t know about nowadays,” he said, “but in my time it would be considered rude ta make such an offer if you didn’t mean it.”  
Santana, who was sat directly behind Mercedes, kicked Mercedes seat and said, “What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? Go!”

“Go,” Sam echoed.

Mercedes stood up and looked back at them. "Y'all so bossy," she said with a smile before walking around to the steps leading up on stage. Marcus had cleared off as she came to Center Stage. "I don't know what to sing," Mercedes admitted.

"Well, whatever you sing, I hope you can do it by yourself. I can't play no piana," Marcus said.

"And I didn't bring my guitar," Sam said, "We really weren't prepared for this."

"I got this," Mercedes said. She cleared her throat and hummed to herself for just a few seconds. "Alright, here goes everything... Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound..."

____________

"If y'all's still here on Sunday you should come by and listen to the sermon," Marcus said. They were back outside the front entrance. They were headed back to the car.

"Thanks," Mercedes said, "But by Sunday we should be in St. Louis, I think." She turned and looked at Santana. "Is that right?"

"On the road to St. Louis anyway," Santana said, "Here tonight, Chicago tomorrow, St. Louis Sunday and Monday."

"Let an old man offer you a piece of advice then," Marcus said, "Y'all got bright futures ahead of ya, but there's gonna be folks as wanna tear you down cause they's full of anger and hate. Never forget, it's a beautiful world we live in. When I was a boy I couldn't eat dinner in the same restaurant as a white man, when I turned 21 in 1963, I couldn't vote, but here it is fifty years later and the most powerful person in the world is a black woman."

"Michelle Obama?" Santana asked.

"Oprah," Marcus said with a smile, "but I suppose Lady Michelle and her Mister ain't doin so bad theyselves." There was a round of chuckles out of all of them. "Point is this world, the people in it they change faster than most care to admit. Some people are gonna hate ya, but they only win if you hate em back."

"Thank you for showing us around," Brittany said waving since she wasn't eager to have her hand crushed by his again.

"Yeah, and thank you so much for lettin me sing," Mercedes said, "I never dreamed I'd get to do that."

"It was my pleasure," he said. He stuck out his hand in Sam's direction and Sam somewhat reluctantly took it steeling himself for the vice grip handshake from the man, "Sam, you gotta look after these girls. God's put them under your care. Take that responsibility serious, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir, I do," Sam said.

"Ya'll take care now," he said as he headed back into the church.

Brittany popped the trunk of the car and started digging into her bag. "It's funny," Mercedes said still with a huge smile on her face, "I thought visiting Motown was going to be the highlight of all our sightseeing." She looked at Santana and saw a look on her face that said she clearly had something she wanted to say. Mercedes knew what it was already. "Go ahead and say it."

"I told you we should have snuck a camera in," Santana said quickly.

Brittany, looking into the camera said, "You guys, the most amazing thing just happened..."


	4. Day Two - The First Show

"We are on our way," Mercedes said into the camera being held by Sam beside her in the back seat. They were loaded up into the car having just left Hitsville, USA the Motown Museum. "We're going to a place called The Rendezvous. It's a gay nightclub that has a weekly Open Mic Night. We're on the sheet for tonight. We're supposed to do two songs, but we're gonna try and see if we can stretch it out and do one more."

"We're not gonna try," Santana corrected from behind the wheel as Sam moved the camera to follow the conversation, "We're damn well gonna do it and if they don't like it, they can fucking riot."

Sam shifted the camera back to Mercedes who was smiling, "You heard the woman. We're doing three songs."

Sam then turned the camera on the normally bubbly, talkative Brittany who was curiously mute now. "What's the matter, Britt?" Sam asked. "Worried about the show?"

"No, it's not that," she said, "We're awesome. I know we're gonna blow them all away. I'm just sad because I don't think we did justice to Detroit. There's so many places we didn't go. The Fillmore, Blondie's, St. Andrew's Hall, The Apex Bar... you know Son House is buried here?"

"Who is Son House?" Mercedes asked.

"Sweetness, it's Detroit," Santana said, "We could be here for a week and never cover all of it."

"I know," Brittany moped.

"And there's gonna be a lot of things we can't get to," Santana continued, "Like Memphis? I can't imagine seeing all of Memphis' musical highlights in just one trip."

"I know," Brittany repeated glumly.

"Look at it this way," Santana said, clearing her throat, "We're gonna be huge and successful someday really soon and then they're gonna send us back out on tour and by then we'll get flown around or at the very least be on some big luxury tour bus and we can explore the cities we've visited more then."

Brittany perked up as she listened to Santana speak. "That sounds really fun," she said.

"And you won't have to do it living out of a fucking hatchback Prius," Santana said throwing a challenging look back at Mercedes.  
"Uh, excuse me," Mercedes responded, "Would you rather we was dumpin hundreds of dollars in gas money into your Sequoia? Or maybe you wanted to pile all four of us plus all our stuff into Brittany's Focus?"

"I appreciate both the space and the gas mileage," Santana said, "I just wish I wasn't presently driving such a Mom Car. That's all I'm saying." Mercedes just humphed in reply.

“So we need a name for our fans, I think,” Brittany said changing the subject and diffusing the tension of Santana and Mercedes’ butting heads yet again.

“What’s that?” Mercedes asked.

“Y’know, we need a nickname to call our fans,” Brittany said again, “Like how Lady Gaga’s fans are called Little Monsters and Wiz Khalifa’s are The Taylor Gang. There’s also Dead Heads and Juggalos and Team Breezy…”

“Fuck Team Breezy,” Santana spat interrupting.

“Yeah,” Brittany agreed off-handedly, “but kinda not exactly my point.”

“What is your point?” Mercedes asked.

“People like to feel like they belong,” Brittany said, “If you ask someone if they like someone who doesn’t have one of these fan nicknames… like I can’t even think of one right now, but they’ll be like ‘Yeah, I like them,’ but ask someone fit they like Lady Gaga and they’ll be like ‘Oh, I'm totally one of the Little Monsters.’ You know, it’s more of a connection. Even if they actually like the other person’s music better they still identify with Gaga because there’s a group to be long to, like a sense of community.”

“So like Team Trouble?” Mercedes offered.

“Veto,” Santana said, “Too plain and too much like Team Breezy.”

“How about The Troubleteens?” Sam said.

“I hope that not all of our fans are going to be teenagers,” Mercedes said.

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Brittany said, “I just brought it up so that we would be thinking about it.” That and she also brought it up to get Mercedes and Santana to quit fighting about the car. She really liked Mercedes’ car anyway. She thought it was a really pretty shade of blue and it was good for the environment, but bringing that up would just start another argument.  
“Well that’s good,” Santana said, suddenly making a right turn into a parking lot, “because we’re here.”

____________

The club was really nice, clean, and well laid out. The bar was along the far wall from where they entered on the southeast corner of the building. Passed that was the DJ's booth which was built up high enough to see down over the entire club. They knew that Alfonso, the club's owner, was also the DJ. He had been a semi-famous DJ who went on tour with different rap artists back in the day before retiring to open this club.

For being as early as it was, there were already quite a few people there littered around the various tables. Santana assumed that most of them were other performers... that, or they just really liked to drink, because it was early.

Sam and the girls made their way to the booth. Sam was lugging a bag that contained Brittany's camcorder and a tripod to mount it on. Santana was carrying their outfits that they were going to wear on stage. Brittany and Mercedes each carried one end of a large Rubbermaid tub stuffed full of Troubletones merchandise. "So you guys some professional act?" 

"Are you Mr. Detmer?" Mercedes asked as she and Brittany settled their load down.

"My father was Mr. Detmer," he said, "Everyone calls me Alfonso. Are you ladies on my list? Because the night is pretty packed. I might-"

"We're the Troubletones," Santana said, "We're on the list."

"Indeed you are," Alfonso confirmed, "Your manager said to tell you he was here and that you guys could set up in the back."  
"Our manager?" Santana said looking from Mercedes to Brittany to Sam, none of whom seemed to have any better clue what he was talking about than Santana did.

"Guy said he was your manager," Alfonso said, "Guy in a wheelchair with a pretty Asian girl and a couple of fabulously dressed guys. They're back there." He pointed to the Northeast corner of the club, very close to the stage. "Anyhow, you girls are eighth on the list. If things go the way the usually do, you'll go on around 10. You have backing music?"

"On an iPod and on a laptop," Brittany answered.

"Okay," he said, "Well, we're set up for both, so your choice. Either way all of my connectors are up here, so you'll have to cue me between songs."

"Yeah, about that," Santana said, "You told Mercedes that we could do two songs but we're wondering if we can bump that to three songs."

"I don't know girls," Alfonso said, "The schedule really packed tonight and..."

"It's our anniversary," Brittany cut in, "Mine and Santana's." She wrapped her free arm around her girlfriend's waist.

"You two?" he asked, "How long?"

"One year," they said in tandem.

Alfonso sighed and closed his eyes, "Okay, three songs, but that's it."

"Thank you, Alfonso," said Mercedes with a smile.

The four of them left the booth and made their way over towards the table where their "manager" was and sure enough, they found Artie, Tina, Blaine, and Kurt. "So you're our manager now, huh?" Santana asked.

Artie just smiled and waggled his eyebrows, "I figured it would get us in faster than friends of the band," he replied, "So if anyone asks, yes, I'm your manager, Tina is my assistant, and Kurt and Blaine are your style team."

“Oh nice, gay stereotypes,” Santana said shooting him a withering stare, "You better be glad we like you Wheels."

"I am," he confirmed quickly.

"Good," Santana replied, "Then you won't mind us turning your table into the merch table, right?" Glances shot around the table from one person to the next silently inquiring. The table wasn't especially big, only about four feet across and there were four people already seated at it. 

As they were all looking at one another, Sam and Brittany had dragged a neighboring table over toward the one the Gleeks were seated around. Both tables were round so they didn't really butt up together very well, but it would do. Kurt and Tina evacuated their seats and they re-arranged the chairs so that they were all along one side. 

They pulled out merchandise and laid it out neatly on the table. They had t-shirts, bumper stickers and mini posters, all of which bore The Troubletones' logo, the words "The Troubletones. Femme. Fierce. Phenomenal." in a font that they'd gone back and forth over for days. Under the logo on the t-shirts and posters were the girls in silhouette, Mercedes in the middle, Santana on her left, and Brittany to her right. 

"How's our on-line presence coming?" Mercedes asked.

"Good," Artie replied, "your Facebook page is up and so is your Tumblr. I e-mailed Brittany the logon and password to both. All of us already like you and are following you."

"What about the website?" Brittany asked.

"I had one version of the website laid out and ready to go but Sugar said it wasn't good enough for you guys," Artie explained, "I said it was the best I could do with the resources available to me. She threw a wad of cash at me and said 'make it better' so I'm working on making it better. It needs about another day's worth of work before it will be ready, but when it is we'll be able to sell your merch through the site."

"That's awesome," Brittany replied, "If that takes off... the on-line store, I mean, who's going to run distribution?"

"I can," Artie said, "At least for a while. If it starts getting crazy and you guys start getting dozens of orders a day I might need help."

"I'll help," Tina volunteered.

"Yeah, me too," Blaine said, "I'm going to be bored stuck in Lima with my boyfriend off in New York soon."

The girls went to get dressed just as the first act hit the stage. He was a decently talented singer but he was crooner in a dance club, seriously wrong audience. They missed the next two acts getting dressed but they didn't really miss much. Fourth act to hit the stage was another girl group but they were a bunch of women in their mid 50's doing doo-wop covers and nowhere near as talented as them.

After that, they went back to the restroom to begin warming up while Sam went to set up the tripod and camera. He filmed the sixth act just as a run through to make sure her knew what he was doing. They played it back on Santana's laptop and it looked good. Artie said they'd probably have to do some sound editing to drown out some of the audience noise but that that wouldn't be too big a deal.

For the seventh slot they were forced to endure some big bear butchering a couple of Gaga songs, but it did present the perfect lead in. After him, they were going to look like the best things that ever come to Detroit. 

Finally, just like he said, at just after 10 o’clock, Alfonso’s voice sounded over the PA system and said, “Now put your hands together and welcome to the stage, The Troubletones.” The girls climbed the stairs Mercedes in the lead followed by Santana and then Brittany. Halfway up the stairs Brittany gave Santana a swat on the ass like she always did before a performance… ever since “Valarie”. When they were on the stage and Santana no longer had to worry about concentrating on climbing in heels, she cast a glance at her girlfriend looking radiant in her blue dress. Santana had on a complimentary dress in silver and Mercedes was elegant as ever in black.

There was a light smattering of applause for the girls from the four hundred or so people in the club. They were clearly not energized after the last performer, but they were about to be. Mercedes held up one finger to Alfonso who started track one on their playlist. Some very familiar piano music rang out through the audience and crowd held its breath hopeful that someone wasn’t about to butcher an anthem.

What the audience didn’t know was that there was no need to worry. The girls had this song down since before Sectionals last year. “At first I was afraid, I was petrified,” Santana sang. Brittany and Mercedes harmonized as did Tina, Sugar, and Samantha (one of the other Troubletones) on the backing track. “Kept thinkin' I could never live without you by my side, but then I spent so many nights thinkin' how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along.”

“And so you’re back,” Mercedes took over lead and the crowd started to come alive having made clear that these ladies knew what they were doing on stage, “From outer space, I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face, I should've changed that stupid lock, I should've made you leave your key, if I had known for just one second you'd be back to bother me.”  
“Go on now go,” Brittany sang strutting upstage, “Walk out the door just turn around now 'cause you're not welcome anymore. Weren't you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? Did you think I'd crumble? Did you think I'd lay down and die? Oh no, not I. I will survive.”

“Oh as long as I know how to love,” sang Mercedes, “I know I'll stay alive.”

“I've got all my life to live,” sang Santana.

“I've got all my love to give,” Brittany sang locking eyes with Santana.

“And I'll survive,” all three girls sang together, “I will survive.”

The girls sang through “I Will Survive” without adding in their normal mash-up parts of “Survivor” because their second number was going to be a mash-up and they didn’t want to do two in a row. The crowd was steadily eating it up. They were by far the best performers of the night so far. The music ran out but Mercedes held onto the last note, wailing on it for as long as she could. When she just couldn’t anymore the crowd thundered in applause and all three of the girls’ faces lit up in big smiles. One song into their professional careers and they were receiving their first standing ovation. Santana reached out to take Brittany’s hand and squeezed for all she was worth. Mercedes looked out and caught Sam’s eye. He gave them all a big, dorky thumbs up.

“Thank you,” Santana said into her microphone.

“Thank you all so much,” Mercedes said, “And I just wanted to say that this is such a huge thrill for us to be up here singing for you guys.”

“Totally,” Brittany said, “and we’ve done that song before. We didn’t just do it because we’re playing a gay nightclub.”

“But, y’know,” Santana said, “Know your audience, right?” Laughter came from the crowd. “Anyone see the Adele show last night?” Cheers from the audience said that many of them were there. “We were there. It was mine and Britt’s one year anniversary and we let Mercedes and her man Sam back there tag along. She was amazing, right?” More cheers came from the crowd.

“Last year we did a mash-up of a couple of her songs,” Mercedes said, “and we think they sound spectacular together so we hope you enjoy.” Mercedes held up five fingers to Alphonso and a moment later a familiar drum beat pumped through the sound system along with backing ooo’s that Brittany and Santana harmonized with. “She… she ain’t real,” Mercedes sang as a loud, obnoxious Wooooo! came from the general direction of the merchandise table, “She ain't gon' be able to love you like I will. She is a stranger, you and I have history, or don't you remember? Sure, she's got it all, but baby is that really what you want?” The long silent beat in the music was filled with cheers from the audience. “Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds, you made a fool out of you, and, boy, she's bringing you down. She made your heart melt, but you're cold to the core. Now rumor has it she ain't got your love anymore.”

“Rumor has it,” Brittany sang. “Rumor has it.” There had been a lot of discussion in the weeks leading up to them leaving about them rearranging this song to have Brittany be more included in it, but Brittany absolutely refused to hear anything of it. She said it was perfect the way it was and she didn’t mind just singing the chorus. 

“Don’t forget me, I beg,” Santana belted out and it was every bit as beautiful as the first time. Her eyes were pinched shut and her free hand held near her stomach clenched in a fist, like she always did when she sang from her soul. “I remember you said.”

“Rumor has it.”

“I heard that you settled down,” Santana sang on in her soft smoky voice, “That you found a girl and you’re married now.” Santana look briefly from the audience to Brittany and winked at her as she sang, “I heard that your dreams came true.” She looked back to the audience to finish the verse, “Guess she gave you things, I didn't give to you.”

“Wooooah!”

“Rumour has it!”

If the audience was eating up the last song, then they were absolutely salivating for this one. The girls all knew that this was one of their stronger numbers and the pain and the emotions that would be forever linked to this song and the circumstances under which it was first performed all came right back to them and they funneled all of it into the music. Mercedes and Brittany just had to make sure Santana didn’t hop off the stage and slap someone after the song was over this time.

Brittany made sure to keep a weather eye on Santana through the last half of the song, but she could tell pretty certainly that it was Santana singing, not Snix. It was sadness that she was feeling, not anger.

Finally Mercedes sang, “Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.”

Santana reached out for Brittany’s waiting hand and squeezed. “Sometimes it lasts in love,” Santana echoed her singing voice thick with emotion, “but sometimes it hurts instead.”

Again the crowd exploded in applause and cheers, almost literally deafening this time. Mercedes smiled and waved soaking in the adoration. Meanwhile, Santana’s eyes were closed and her lips were tight as a single tear ran down her left cheek. Brittany saw this and squeezed Santana’s hand even tighter. Without opening her eyes, Santana turned into Brittany’s waiting arms.

“You’re so amazing,” Brittany said directly into Santana’s ear, “you know that? I'm so proud that I get to call you mine.”

“Thank you,” Santana said back, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Brittany said.

“Thank you,” Mercedes into her microphone. She’d already said it a dozen times and the cheers were only just starting to die down. “You guys are too much, thank you. Thank you so much.” Finally the crowd began to simmer down. “Okay, once again we are The Troubletones. I'm Mercedes Jones. This is the amazing Santana Lopez, and her adorably perfect girlfriend Brittany Pierce. As they said earlier it’s their one year anniversary so our last song is gonna be them. Come see us after we get done. We’ll be set up over here in the corner with some merchandise. Come say hi.”

Mercedes stepped back and Brittany led Santana to the front of the stage. “So this is dedicated everybody who has somebody that they love,” Brittany said, “Alfonso, play track 11, please.” Synthesized drum beats played and Brittany said, “I wanna dance!” The beat slowed and deepened and Brittany began to sing, “Clocks strikes upon the hour and the sun begins to fade. Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away. I've done alright up till now. It’s the light of day that shows me how and when the night falls my lonely heart calls!”

“Oh I wanna dance with somebody,” Brittany and Santana sang together as the danced and stared at each other with big bright smiles on their faces. “I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Yeah I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me. Oh I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Yeah I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me.”

“I've been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town,” Santana sang. When Brittany had originally sang the song in Glee Club it was a surprise for Santana because Brittany had wanted to cheer her girlfriend up after Whitney died. When they’d done it together in the auditorium they hadn’t really had a lot of time to re-work it so Santana just sang the bridge, but once they decided to take it on tour they both wanted to make a real and true duet. “Sooner or later the fever ends and I wind up feeling down. I need a woman who'll take a chance on a love that burns hot enough to last, so when the night falls my lonely heart calls.”

The girls had already owned this audience completely so when they’d broken into this song with the looks and the smiles between them, the crowd just melted. When they hit the chorus again, the audience sang along. Brittany and Santana danced and twirled next to each other as they sang the song, but near the end they sang together, “Don’t you wanna dance.”

“With me baby?” Santana sang solo and as she did Brittany yanked Santana into her arms and began to lead them dancing truly together. Brittany stared into Santana’s eyes and smiled proudly while Santana had nothing but pure adoration on her face.

Not missing a beat, Mercedes, who had been silent until now lifted her microphone and sang, “With somebody who loves me.” Mercedes stood at the back of the stage allowing them to remain the focus of the performance. “Don't you wanna dance, say you wanna dance. Don't you wanna dance? Don't you wanna dance, say you wanna dance. Don't you wanna dance? Don't you wanna dance? Say you wanna dance? Uh huh.”

They stopped dancing just as Mercedes got to the front of the stage so they could close the song and their first performance together, “With somebody who loves me.”

Once again the audience exploded in cheers and applause. The girls all bowed together. Brittany blew kisses into the crowd.

“Thank you so much, Detroit,” Santana said.

“Motown we love you,” Mercedes said.

“Troubletones,” Brittany said.

______________

Before the girls could even get there, the merchandise table was a madhouse, with four people trying to service fifty of more, people pressing one another against the tables which weren’t particularly sturdy to begin with. The whole thing had nearly been upset twice already. Finally it was Tina who yelled, “Alright, people calm down!”

“You tell em,” said Santana, “Miss Tina Cohen-Backbone.”

“Do you take a debit card?” someone yelled from in the middle of the pack. There were several yeahs that echoed the sentiment.  
Brittany said, “Artie, do you have my phone? Are we set up to take cards?”

“All set,” he answered.

“Okay,” Brittany said loudly, “If you need to pay with a card, you have to see Artie down at the far end of the table. Anyone else can take cash.”

“Will you sign my shirt?” someone asked.

“Of course we will,” Mercedes answered, “Where do you want me to sign it?” Brittany got into her bag and retrieved a box of silver Sharpies so that they could sing the black t-shirts.

“This is a mess,” Kurt commented.

“How about…” Blaine looked at their set up, “How about we make that table the autograph table? Then we can keep selling over here.” The crowd of about fifty was now closer to a hundred, nearly a quarter of the club’s occupancy. Other music acts were still going on but the crowd was dead. Nothing was going to compare to The Troubletones.

T-shirts, posters, and bumper stickers were flying out faster than any of them had expected or even dared to hope. Tina, the designated banker, was stuffing tens and twenties into the bank bag basically as fast as she could considering her weirdo need to have all the bills face the same way.

“Will you guys sing again if they let you?” asked a woman in the autograph line who was pretty shamelessly checking out Mercedes.

“We, uh, we hadn’t really planned anything else,” Mercedes said, “We sorta had to beg and plead just to get the third song. I mean I'm up for it. If nothing else, I can go up there solo and pull out some Aretha or something. I don’t know, you guys up for an encore if our fans demand it?”

“I think we could manage something,” Santana said as Brittany nodded eagerly in agreement.

“But don’t be disrespectful of everybody else that came to sing tonight,” Mercedes said, “Let everybody have their turn, then go crazy and we’ll see what we can’t come up with to close out the night.”

_______________

It was 12:40 by the time the last act departed the stage and sure enough as soon as he was gone the audience started chanting their name, again and again, “Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones! Trouble-tones!” At their table Santana wore the cockiest smirk she’d ever smirked. They waited letting the anticipation build. Finally after almost five full minutes of unabated chanting, Alfonso came over the PA, “Troubletones, your audience and your stage await you.”

The girls once again retook the stage. None of them were big on sitting around in their dresses and had all changed back into their street clothes. Santana came up sipping on a beer she wasn’t old enough to buy and grabbed one of the microphones while Mercedes and Brittany carried their Rubbermaid tub up with them. Brittany’s other hand was full with her Handycam, on and filming this from the stage. Sam was back out in the audience also filming.

“So we’re on this road trip,” Santana said to the audience, “We’re gonna get to LA eventually but we’re taking our time getting there, seeing the sights and getting gigs where and when we can. We’re from Lima, Ohio so this is our first stop, our first show. This is such an unbelievably awesome way to start this trip. We can’t thank you guys enough.” The crowd cheered. “It seems like we’ve already talked to so many of you over at the table, but I just wanted to let you all know if you are into us check us out on the web, man. We’re all over it. We’ve got a Facebook page, a Tumblr page… what’s our Tumblr, Britt?”

“Herecomestrouble-dot-tumblr-dot-com,” Brittany said.

“Right,” Santana said, “And our YouTube channel, there’s links to our YouTube channel on Facebook and Tumblr. We’ll have videos of all of our performances up plus we’re documenting our road trip and our rise to fame. It will all be on there.”

“And our website will be up in a couple days,” Brittany said, “Herecomestrouble-dot-com. It’s gonna have a map of all the places we’re going and about when we think we’re gonna get there. There’s a whole interactive thing on there where you can tell us places we should go or let us know about venues we can play, plus now there’s gonna be a web store where anyone who missed out can get their own Troubletones merchandise.”

“Yeah, so before we left we got this great deal on t-shirt printing,” Santana said, “So we loaded up and brought 300 t-shirts with us thinking they would last us this whole three week trip. We brought them all in this big plastic tub and well... show them.” Mercedes and Brittany pulled the lid off the tub, lifted it up high and turned it over. The tub was empty. “This is ridiculous and insane… and unbelievably cool, you guys, thank you so much.”

Brittany said, “Also thanks to our friends Tina, Blaine, and Kurt, for running the merch table tonight.”

“Thanks to my man, Sam,” Mercedes said, “who runs our camera while we’re on stage.” Mercedes looked to Brittany who was filming the audience. “Our main camera anyways.”

“And special shout out,” Santana said, “to our manager, Artie Abrams who’s busy as we speak building our website, who helped record all our backing tracks for our performances, for finding us our deal on the shirts and this Open Mic Night.”

“But you guys didn’t call us back on stage to hear all this,” Mercedes said, “You wanted music. Alphonso, play track seven, please.” A very familiar horn fanfare sounded through the speakers and the audience cheered immediately. “When I was a little girl,” Mercedes sang, “I had a rag doll, only doll I've ever owned.”


	5. Day Three - Chicago, Rainy Days

"Fucking rain," Santana cussed squinting and looking hard out the windshield of the car, "I can't see shit in this." 

Brittany had just turned on the camera and had it pointed at herself, "So it's starting to look like Chicago may be a bust for us," she said. She turned the camera to point it out the passenger side window. "As you can see it is really coming down out there. We set out from Detroit at six o'clock this morning..."

"Even though we were at the bar until almost two last night," Santana interjected.

"Right," Brittany agreed, "but we didn't want to spend the whole day in the car and miss seeing Chicago, so we left early, and what's normally about a five hour drive is down to about four hours and fifteen minutes because Santana is a lead foot. We aren't quite to town yet. We're still about five minutes outside of Gary, Indiana which is about half an hour from Chicago. Unfortunately we're going to be following this storm cell all the way there and it's supposed to be raining all day."

"So we're going to have all day to do nothing in one of the best cities in the whole of the Mid-West," Santana said.

________________

"We've made it to Chicago," Brittany said, "It's still raining. It's a little before two o'clock now. Santana and I had a nap when we got here after driving all morning. Sam and Mercedes braved the storm to go get lunch for all of us, yummy, yummy meatball subs from a place called Gio's Cafe and Deli at 2724 South Lowe Avenue. They're amazing, you should check them out if you're ever in town."

“Brittany can you do that somewhere else please?” Mercedes asked. Brittany turned the camera to the small table in the room that was currently covered papers and flanked by Santana and Mercedes. “You know I love you but we’re tryin to work here.” Santana didn’t speak but just gave Brittany a sympathetic look that told her that Santana wished for some quiet as well.

“They’re just grumpy bears because the song writing session isn’t going very well yet,” Brittany said, “But that’s fine, I’ll go find Sam and we’ll make our own fun. Do you guys know where he went?”

“Down to the lobby, he said,” Mercedes answered, “Didn’t say why.”

“Okay, I’ll go look for him there,” Brittany said as she collected her laptop bag and switched off the camera. She deposited a kiss on the top Santana’s head as they exchanged I love you’s and then she was off. She made quick time through the hall and down the elevator that opened back into the lobby.

The lobby of the hotel was actually rather large, so large in fact that it took Brittany several minutes to determine that Sam wasn't actually there. She checked the gym, which was usually a good place to look when searching for Sam but he wasn't there either. She checked at pool and found it also lacking her friend. That wasn't surprising of course since it was still pouring rain. She went back to the lobby to ask the front desk if they'd seen him but then she noticed an accordion door open an inch or so. 

She peeked into the room that housed the complimentary breakfast the hotel offered and there sat at one of the tables facing away from the door was Sam with a spiral notebook splayed open in front of him. He had a pen in hand writing quickly. She gently pushed the doors open enough for her to squeeze through before closing them as quietly as possible. She turned her camera back on and slinked up to him. "I don't think you're supposed to be in here, Sam."

At the sound of her voice, Sam jerked straight up in his seat and let out a small shriek. He calmed back down immediately when he realized it was just Brittany. He chuckled softly at himself and said, "Hey Brittany."

"Hey Sammy," she replied as she settled into the chair next to him, "Are you writing a song too? Because I came looking for you because our girls are in serious writing mode right now and I wanted us to do something fun."

He pulled the notebook close, hiding it not so much from Brittany but from her camera. "It's not a song. It's kind of a journal that I keep," he explained, "I'd love to do something fun with you. Can you give me like ten minutes without the camera on to finish this up?"

"Totally," she said turning off the camera once more. When it was off, her voice turned serious as she said, "Is everything okay, Sam? You know you can talk to us if you're homesick or something, right?"

Sam looked up at her and smiled a sad smile. “I'm always homesick, Britt,” he said, “I’ve got so many places to be homesick of. I miss my family in Independence. I miss my old friends in Tullahoma. I miss our friends back in Lima. I miss all of our friends that are leaving Lima. Homesickness is something I'm used to. Don’t worry about this,” he gestured to the book which he was mostly covered by his left forearm, “It’s just something I do. I’ll be done in just a few minutes, I promise.” Brittany stood up from the table leaving her camera and her laptop bag there. She walked slowly forward barely lifting her feet, more gliding than actually walking. She slowly lifted one arm out in front of her and one behind her and before long she wasn’t gliding or walking but dancing.

Brittany preferred to dance to music but she didn’t have to have it, there was rhythm in her soul so she twirled and kicked and jumped to suit her fancy, deftly avoiding all the tables and chairs in the room without trying too hard. When Brittany reached the far end of the room, which had much more free space, she started running through something she’d been working out mentally for a couple of weeks. She’d been trying to think of a way to work dancing into The Troubletones’ set but it was hard to plan when she never knew what type of space they were going to have to work with. They had basic blocking for all of the numbers they had worked out ahead of time, but that was different than really dancing. She loved singing, especially with Santana and Mercedes, but she was a dancer at heart and she longed to do it more often.

She ran through her whole routine and then started again. Part way through the first time she’d had an idea to do something a little different and wanted to try it out immediately. She came through a spin to find Sam sitting on one of the tables with the camcorder pointed at her and a huge smile on his lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and laughed at herself for losing track of time. Her routine was somewhere in the twenty minute range so he’d likely been recording her for a while. “You really are amazing, Jelly Bean.” He pressed pause and lowered the camera to the table.

“Thanks,” Brittany said. She smiled at the nickname but she sighed in sadness because of who it reminded her of. “I miss him,” she said.

“Rory?” Sam said and Brittany nodded sadly, “Me too. He was a great friend and a hell of a singer.” Sam paused to chuckle to himself. “Man, did he suck at video games.”

“Right?” Brittany smiled and laughed a little, “I really liked having a little brother.”

“A little brother that you once tried to sleep with?”

Brittany’s eyes snapped to his in confusion, “I so did not,” she said, “Wait, was I drunk when this happened?”

“He told me about the Pot of Gold thing,” Sam said.

“What’s that got to do with sex?”

“Is that not what that meant?” Sam said, “The way he told that story, it seemed like you meant sex.”

“Pot of Gold is pot, Sam,” Brittany explained, “I was offering to get him high for the first time. Why do you think I wanted a box of Lucky Charms that was only marshmallows?”

“Munchies,” Sam said.

“Exactly,” Brittany said, “but after all the drama over us leaving New Directions and fighting with Finn, I really didn’t want to smoke. I don’t like getting high when I'm sad. That never leads to a fun time.”

Sam nodded in understanding. “So did you ever wind up getting him high?”

Brittany grinned and said, “Right after Valentine’s Day, when him and Sugar started dating, although my Pot of Gold was long gone by then. I forget what we smoked but it was something really good because he was trying to describe what everything felt like and tasted like. Sugar just wanted to make out with him and he kept trying to describe what her lips tasted like. She got so mad.” Brittany chuckled briefly before falling somber once more. “I don’t have anyone to steal jelly beans from anymore.”

Sam picked the camera back up and stood. He held out his hand and said, “Come on. We’re supposed to be having fun, not being all maudlin. Let’s go watch some cat videos or something that will cheer you up.”

Brittany perked up at this idea and followed Sam back to the table he was sitting at when she got here, where her laptop was still sitting. She quickly pulled the computer out and started it up. Within a couple of minutes she was pulling up YouTube. “Ooh, we got a bunch of messages,” she said.

“Check em out,” Sam said.

Brittany clicked the Inbox and saw that they were comment notifications. There were over a hundred of them, almost two hundred. She clicked on their channel and opened each video in turn. The Day One video had 380 views and four comments. The Day Two video, the walking tour of Detroit had 512 views and thirteen comments. “I Will Survive” had 721 views and eighteen comments. “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” had 870 views and 32 comments. Their old Disco Inferno video was up to 1,830 views and had eight new comments. “River Deep/Mountain High” had 890 views and eighteen comments. “Rumor Has It/Someone Like You” had 1,108 views and 29 comments. Aside from the Disco Inferno video and the Day One video, all of them had been up for less than 24 hours. “This is…” Brittany was at a loss for words, “This is… so cool!” 

Sam looked over her shoulder as Brittany scrolled through them. They smiled at the compliments and the “I love you guys”, laughed at the funny stuff, and rolled their eyes at the hateful things. “You should reply to them,” he said, “Being interactive with your fans tends to inspire a lot of loyalty.”

“Only if you do it with me,” Brittany said. Sam answered in a wordless smile. The two of them quickly scavenged the room for something to set the camera on that would keep it level with their faces. Eventually they found a pair of serving pans. Turning one upside down on top of the other, they now had a makeshift camera stand. Sam adjusted the focus a little before turning on more lights in the room so they’d actually register on the camera, while Brittany poured over the comments looking for ones to reply to.

Eventually Sam hit record and settled into the chair next to Brittany. “Start whenever you’re ready,” he said, “I’ll follow you.”  
Brittany nodded and looked to the camera and smiled brightly, “Hey, guys, thank you all so much for all your feedback to our videos. Sam and I thought we’d take a few minutes to answer some of your questions personally since we’ve got some time to kill on this miserable rainy day in Chicago. Soooo,” she drawled out as she looked down to her computer screen, “DearLisa22 asks, ‘Who is your favorite singer and who would you like to see live that you never have?’ Sam?”

“I, uh, I grew up in a small city called Tullahoma in Tennessee and when you grow up in middle Tennessee, you grow up on two kinds of music, classic rock and country. So that’s where a lot of my favorites lie. Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix and Kenny Chesney and Faith Hill and The Dixie Chicks. I like a lot of modern stuff too, The Black Keys and Florence and the Machine. If I had to pick one favorite singer, I’d probably say Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin. Who I haven’t seen in concert that I’d like to? Top of the list right now is probably The Foo Fighters… with The Civil Wars being a very close number two. Brittany?”

“My answer to the second question is really super easy, Lady Gaga. She’s just so creative and fun, I’d love to see her live. My favorite singer… I love lots of singers, Lady Gaga and Ke$ha, Beyonce, Pink…” Brittany paused and thought a little more, “Avril Lavigne and Gwen Stefani were my favorites when I was younger, but honestly my all time favorite singer is Santana Lopez and that would still be true even if she wasn’t my girlfriend and soulmate. Her voice is just so amazing. She can sing anything and make it sound wonderful.”

As soon as Brittany said Santana’s name, Sam started laughing to himself, “Thank you, Brittany,” he said, “Thank you for making me look like a jerk for not saying that my girlfriend is my favorite singer. Thank you so much.”

“Not my fault you love some old dude more than you love Mercedes,” Brittany said smiling a big toothy smile at him.

“Mercedes,” Sam said, “Mercedes Jones is totally my favorite singer. We can edit this, right?”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Brittany asked stifling laughter, “I can edit this, but I'm not gonna. I'm gonna let Mercedes and the whole world see that you aren’t a devoted boyfriend.” She bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself in control.

Sam laughing looked to the computer and said, “Hey, look, here’s another question. Fluxion asks ‘Are you the same Brittany Pierce who was named Trendiest Girl in America by thesartorialist-dot-blogspot-dot-com last year and did an interview in Teen Vogue?’”

“Of course I get asked this when I'm sitting here in a t-shirt and yoga pants with my hair tied in a bun,” Brittany said and Sam broke out laughing in earnest. “Oh well, it’s a lazy day, I'm comfortable, I'm happy. But, yes, that was me, although I maintain that I should have at least been given the chance to challenge this year’s winner to keep my title.”

“Like Thunderdome?” Sam asked, “Two trendy girls enter, one trendy girl leaves?”

Laughing she slapped him lightly on the upper arm. “Don’t be ridiculous, Sam, you know I don’t like violence…”

“Says the girl who just hit me,” Sam interjected looking into the camera.

Brittany laughed, “I just want to sit down with this new Trendiest Girl in America whose name I don’t remember and have a trendy showdown with her. I dunno how we’d do it, but I just want a chance to defend my crown.”

Sam looked back to the computer and scrolled through more comments. He came to a big block of a paragraph and started reading. “Just somebody being nasty,” he said, “Let’s skip it.”

“No, let’s not,” Brittany said.

“You’re just giving a troll attention,” Sam said, “It’s what he wants.”

“Maybe, but I'm also standing up to a bully, standing up for people who need stood up for,” Brittany said, “There’s a really nasty comment from someone called StrengthNCrist. I think it’s supposed to say Christ but there’s an H missing. I'm not gonna repeat all of it because like I said most of it is really, really mean. It’s on our YouTube page on the Dance With Somebody video if you really want to, but he concludes ‘I think what you girls are doing is shameful and deplorable, teaching young girls to live that lifestyle.’ First of all, Mercedes, Santana, and I are all 18 years old so we’re women, not girls. Secondly, I'm a singer and a dancer, not a teacher. I'm not teaching anyone to do anything. I’m just being myself and following my dreams. Part of being myself is expressing how much I love my girlfriend because she’s so wonderful to me and she makes me so much happier than anyone else I’ve ever been with. If other people find inspiration to be themselves because of me or us, then that makes me so, so happy. You think what I'm doing is shameful? Well, I am not ashamed. I am a beautiful unicorn and I live my life out loud, I will not apologize for that and I will not sit down and be quiet just because you say I should. No one’s forcing you to listen when I talk.”

“Amen,” said Sam, “I'm glad that your screen name is misspelled because speaking as one of the faithful, I find bullying done in the name of my Lord and Savior to be the worst kind of bullying. And that’s what you are, dude, a bully. Jesus taught us to love everyone and this notion of ‘love the sinner, hate the sin,’ it’s not in the Bible. Jesus openly kept the company of sinners and people the religious establishment of the time considered unclean and all he ever told them to do was to love God and love each other. No one said anything about hating the sin, and on this issue, that notion is complete crap. You can’t hate someone’s core identity and yet claim to love them.”

“Could you like imagine if you were talking to somebody about Mercedes and you were like, ‘I really love my girlfriend, but I hate the fact that she’s black. I'm not racist, though cuz I love her.’ Could you imagine?”

Sam looked at her silently for a minute, “That was like the worst impression of anyone ever,” he said, “Was that seriously supposed to be me?”

“Shut up, I'm trying to help you make your point,” Brittany said.

“The point has been made,” Sam said, “We moved onto a new topic already, Brittany’s terrible at impressions. We’ve got three weeks, we need to work on this.”

“Let’s do one more question,” Brittany said, “before we go stop our girls from yanking their weaves out in frustration.” Sam chuckled. “SouthernDiva says’ University of Georgia loves The Troubletones. Please tell us y’all are coming to Georgia. We don’t care where in Georgia, we’ll come to meet you and give you a big Bulldogs welcome.’ First of all, how amazing is the internet? We’ve played one show in Detroit, Michigan and now people in Georgia want us to come and play for them.”

“That is incredibly awesome,” Sam concurred, “The Information Age has definitely brought the world closer together.”

“ Secondly, SouthernDiva, that’s so incredibly sweet of you guys to offer but Georgia’s not on the itinerary for this trip. We’re driving from Chicago to St. Louis and staying there tomorrow and Monday, then we’re driving right down the Mississippi to Memphis, then New Orleans, then we’re turning west. We really want to see the East Coast. Mercedes’ big brother is in Atlanta. San has family in Florida. We’ve got friends who just moved to New York and Connecticut. We will get out there sometime, probably just not on this trip. Although that does give me the perfect chance to plug the website. Herecomestrouble-dot-com, it should be up some time either tomorrow or Monday, I’ve been assured. Check it out. It has a map of our road trip so you can know if we’re coming to nightclub near you.”

“Anyways, that’s all we’ve got time for right now,” Brittany said closing the laptop. Sam stood up and walked out of frame up to the camera. “We’ll try to see if we have time for more questions later, if the rain doesn’t let up. If anyone else has questions feel free to ask. We’ve got a long car ride coming up tomorrow so that will help pass the time. Santana and Mercedes both have family in St. Louis so tomorrow we won’t be doing a lot of filming, or at least not of things we’re gonna post on the web. Monday we will be walking around St. Louis and trying to find a place that will let us perform. If you guys know of anywhere, send us a message either here or on Facebook or Tumblr. Tuesday we’ll be in Memphis, so let us know there as well please. Love you guys.”


	6. Day Three - Real Talk and Indian Food

Santana held the door to a meeting room in the hotel open while Sam and Brittany carried in their video and lighting equipment. Brittany had found some helpful videos on the internet about how to build a light stand inexpensively and recruited Finn and Artie to help her build it. They hadn’t used it much so far because they’d been outside during the day on the walking tour and in a club that had stage lights at night, but now was the time to bring it out since the dim lighting wasn’t going to cut it for what they had planned.

The room had a medium sized conference table with ten chairs around it. “I think this will work,” Brittany said, “I think we’ll have you sit at the head of the table, San. Then me and Sam can sit to your left.” Santana just nodded as she set up her laptop. Sam set up the light stand and started running the extension cord. Brittany unfolded a pair of tripods and started affixing cameras to them.

Santana’s computer chimed and she clicked on her Skype. “It’s Artie,” she said before clicking to answer. “Wheels, what’s up?”

“What’s up, y’all?” he replied, “How’s The Windy City?”

“Raining,” Santana replied, “All damn day.”

“That’s what I heard,” Artie said, “That really sucks. You’ll just have to come back when you guys swing back through. So what can I help you guys with?”

“I got a question about camera set-up,” Brittany said as she walked into view of the webcam on Santana’s laptop. “We’re gonna do something like semi-complex and I have no idea about how to set the cameras so that it doesn’t get boring looking at the same wide shot of all three of us.”

“Three?” Artie echoed.

“Mercedes is working on a song,” Santana said.

“Oh, cool,” he said, “So what’s the set-up?”

Brittany wordlessly waved at Sam who went to take his seat. Brittany followed him and Santana followed her after turning the laptop to face that side of the table. They settled into the chairs, Santana at the head, Brittany next to her and Sam beside Brittany. “See, so we can’t just do one shot and we have no camera person. I really don’t want to try to do multiple takes or whatever because then it would take all night and plus what we say wouldn’t be spontaneous and honest.”

“So what are you actually doing?” Artie asked.

“We’re talking about personal stuff, me and Sam and Santana’s gonna feed us questions,” Brittany explained.

“And you can’t do a three camera set-up?” Artie asked. “Don’t you have your cameras and Santana’s Flip?”

“We’ve only got two tripods,” Sam said.

“Yeah, we didn’t really anticipate this,” Brittany said.

“Okay, here’s my advice. Take the big camera and set it up right behind the laptop and use it for the wide shot, then take the Handycam and set it up on Brittany and Sam since they’re going to be doing most of the talking.”

“And just cut to the wide when San asks us things?” Brittany said.

“Or you can set up a close-up of Santana after you’re done and just have her repeat everything she asked you guys,” Artie offered. “When are you looking at putting this up, because I'm still rendering yours and Sam’s video?”

Santana looked at the two of them confused. “Why are the two of you making videos?” There was a long, silent moment when looks of jealousy, anger, and genuine curiosity flashed briefly over Santana’s face.

“Oh, relax,” Brittany said, “Sammy and I just made a sex tape. No big.” Sam’s eyes immediately went wide and he looked at Santana in fear. Santana and Artie both just broke out in laughter. 

Then it was Sam’s turn to look confused. “Okay, I'm confused.”

When Santana managed to reign in her laughter she said, “’Sex tape’ is sort of Brittany’s way of telling me that I'm being ridiculous and the chill the fuck out.”

“Okay,” he said, “but didn’t hear you guys fighting about a sex tape back a few months?” 

“Never watched the video did you?” Santana asked. Brittany stood back up and walked around the table to begin setting the cameras how Artie had suggested.

“I’ve uh… caught the show live,” he said, “a couple of times, actually. You guys really need to learn how to lock a door.”

“Maybe you need to learn how to knock,” Santana fired back at him. 

“It was a cat video,” Artie interjected cutting off an argument, “With some shots of them making out. No sex.”

“Just a wake-up call,” Santana said, “A reminder that fame itself isn’t as important as doing something that makes you happy and that she has my back.”

“Always,” Brittany said with a smile and a wink. “Artie, if I'm gonna be pulling this together from three different files, it’s probably going to take me a couple of days to get this video put together the way I like it so I shouldn’t be overloading you with stuff.”

“Okay,” he said, “Sounds good. Do you guys need anything else?”

“I think that’s it,” Brittany said.

“Alright, then, I’ll let you get to it. Bye guys.”

“Bye, Artie,” said all three of them one after another.

________________

"Alright Brittany," Santana said, "This was your idea to sit down and talk about serious issues. It was also your idea to go first. Why was that?"

"Because I'm asking you guys to talk about some really personal stuff, things that might not always be pleasant or fun to talk about," Brittany said, "I wanted go first just to put my money where my mouth is... even though I don't get that saying at all."

Sam piped up, "And Brittany told me what she was going to talk about and I said I'd like to sit in if that was okay."

"Which it totally is," Brittany said, "because we totally love Sam."

"We do," Santana confirmed.

Brittany turned to look at the camera pointed at her and Sam and said, "Real Talk is a segment of our show where we take time out of our busy schedule of messing around and having fun on the road to talk about the issues facing three women trying to make it on their own in the world. In the weeks to come we will talk about our experiences being woman of color, differing sizes, and sexualities."

"But today," Santana said into the other camera, "We're talking to Britt and Sam about intelligence and people's assumptions of intelligence. Britt, this is your show, you want to start here?"

"People make assumptions about me all the time," she said, "They think that I'm stupid. Most people are happy to tell me that they think that to my face and not just kids but adults too including teachers. People are all too happy to make assumptions about me because I struggled with my schoolwork."

"I know the answer to this question, of course," Santana said, "but for our audience, tell me why you really struggled in school."  
"I'm dyslexic and I have ADHD," Brittany said.

"I'm also dyslexic," added Sam.

“For anyone watching this that doesn’t know,” Santana said, “Dyslexia is a neurological disorder that affects the brain’s language centers.”

“It presents differently in different people but it usually makes it harder for us to read,” Brittany said, “Like I can see a word and I know that I know what that word is because I'm not illiterate, but somewhere between seeing the word and understanding it, there’s a crossed wire in my brain or something because it just won’t make the connection, but basically I struggle to read even now, but that’s not why I struggled in school.”

“It’s not?” Santana asked, legitimately surprised.

“No,” Brittany, “I struggled because I got labeled ‘that dumb girl’ and was basically expected to do badly.”

“How do you mean?” Santana asked, “Can you expand on that?”

“Well, okay, like you go to class and the teacher writes on the board all through the lesson and I try to understand what they’re writing and take notes and everything, but because I write slower than most people, I lose track of what they’re saying. I get behind in the lecture and I can’t catch up. Then they give us homework that I don’t know how to do because I couldn’t keep up with the lesson in class. Then the next day in class the new lesson builds off of yesterday’s lesson that I'm not real sure I figured out and so now I start off lost and fall even further behind on this lesson. It snowballs until the first test and I’ve tried to understand everything and learn what all the other kids learn but I just haven’t. I almost always failed the first test of every year because I just can’t keep up. And because I’ve struggled for years and teachers all talk to each other, I’ve already got a reputation for being dumb.”

“And once that label is on you, you really can’t get it off,” Sam said speaking up. “If you make bad grades to start with and then you suddenly get a good grade, you get suspected of cheating. I can’t tell you how disheartening that is.” He fell silent but Brittany gently nudged him with her elbow. “I'm… I guess I'm kinda different from Brittany. I do okay with the introductory stuff. I usually manage to pull an A or a B on the first test but then I start getting lost too. My grades slide until I really buckle down and push everything but school away and then I’ll do well again and then I'm asked to stay after class and…” He shakes his head. “I think the thing that pisses me off most about it is that they won’t just come out and say they think I'm cheating. They think they’re smarter than I am so they think I don’t know what they’re doing, hints and implications without a real accusation.”

Santana said, “So if you defend yourself before they actually say what they’re trying hard not to say?”

“They use your ‘defensiveness’ as more proof that they’re right and you’re sent to the principal’s office,” Sam says, “That takes you out of another class and then you’re missing that lecture and falling behind in that class.”

“And I don’t know if it was just our school,” Brittany said, “Maybe you can answer this, Sam, since you moved schools a couple of times, but whenever I asked a teacher if they have time to help me with what I didn’t understand. They just, like, repeated the exact same lesson the same way I already didn’t understand it the first time.”

“Pretty much,” he said, “Nobody has any sort of training in like alternate teaching techniques or whatever they’re called.”  
“I know it sounds like I'm being whiney and life self-indulgent or whatever. I know there are treatment techniques for dyslexia and medication for ADHD, and I take the medication and I try the learning tools. It’s still a struggle and I'm not like saying that I need special treatment because I’ve got an affliction or two…”

“You just want someone to care,” Sam said.

“YES!” Brittany said smiling brightly at Sam, “Yes, exactly! I want someone to acknowledge that I'm struggling with something, someone who won’t immediately label me as dumb and write off any attempt at helping me. And that’s kind of what happened to me. They didn’t take the task of educating me seriously, so I didn’t think I should take school seriously. I mean, why should I? It’s not like my education was all that great anyway.”

“Yeah, I haven’t gotten an education in school,” Sam said, “I’ve gotten prepped to take standardized tests.”

“Okay,” Santana chimed in, “Just so that this doesn’t turn into an all out gripe session, just so that this video isn’t just us saying that school sucks, what could be done, what should be done to fix the problems that you see in the public school system?”

“It’s an easy, obvious answer,” Sam spoke first, “but the first thing you need to do is pay teachers better. I makes no sense that business people, y’know CEOS and whatever, make tens of millions of dollars a year to run a business, doctors get loads of money to be doctors, but none of them would be able to do what they do without teachers educating them. Maybe if we paid them in relation to the amount of time the put in, then so many teaching jobs wouldn’t be filled by people who had failed at some other career first. Maybe more people would aspire to be teachers and would actually be good at it since it was their dream and not their fallback career.”

“We also need to accept that people are all different,” Brittany said, “I mean, that’s just good life advice too, but it applies to school and education specifically. People are different. We have different hair color and eye color, different body types and personal preferences. We have different taste in movies and TV and music. We’re attracted to different types of people. All of that is understood, most of the time. So why is everyone educated the same? There shouldn’t be any such thing as a standardized test, much less having it be the deciding factor in how smart someone is.”

“Give us the quote,” Santana said, “You know you want to.”

“Albert Einstein once said, ‘Everybody is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing that it is stupid,’” Brittany said, “That’s Albert Einstein, the guy who was so smart that his name is synonymous with the word smart. The same Albert Einstein who struggled with his grades in school, you know, the guy failed math but he’s the father of modern physics. And yet, we still think that everyone should get the same cookie cutter education.”

“Along those same lines,” Sam weighed in, “I think we need to de-stigmatize the idea of repeating a grade.” Brittany nodded at him. “Like you said, people are different and learn at different rates, so if someone needs an extra year to learn what they need to learn we shouldn’t make them feel bad about that. It’s not like they can control it.”

“You want to wrap it up for us Brittany?” Santana asked.

Brittany looked directly into the camera on her, “Most everyone I know, people I went to school with, the teachers who taught me, people I grew up around, they all think I'm stupid, but for the last two years I’ve directed and edited my own web series, first with Fondue for Two and now with Here Comes Trouble. Every video on this YouTube page I edited myself and I shot many of them as well. I’ve committed the arrangements for over two dozen songs to memory so that we can perform them for you our audience. I'm not stupid, I'm just different than most people, and I'm glad that I am. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that you’re stupid just because you don’t do well in school. And if you or anyone you know thinks they might be dyslexic then you should talk to your parents or a school councilor or a doctor. Talk to somebody because diagnosing it early is essential. Sam got diagnosed a lot younger than I did, so he’s a lot more adept at the techniques to help people like us than I am. We’ll post some links in the description for some on-line resources for you to look at if you are or think you may have a learning disability.”

“And cut!” Sam said.

“Yeah, I think that was good,” Brittany said. “Lemme just play it back a minute to make sure it was framed right and not blurry and whatever, then we can reset and do Santana’s close ups…”

“No, screw that,” Santana said, “I don’t need close ups. This was about you guys. Britt, make sure your footage is usable. After that we’re all getting the hell out of this hotel, damn the rain.”

“We’re going out?” Brittany asked with a big smile.

“We’re going out,” Santana confirmed.

“We, like as in all of us?” Sam asked.

“Well, that’s up to you guys,” Santana responded. “You can come with us or you can, uh… have the hotel room to yourselves for a few hours.”

_______________

"Look at this face!"

"Santana, turn that damn camera off!" Mercedes yelled at her. "I'm dyin over here and you're laughing!"

"We told Mercedes to take baby steps but does she listen?" Santana narrated.

"Y'all stop fuckin around and get me a glass of water of somethin!"

"Water will only make it worse," Brittany said, "Ask the server for raita. It's yogurt or it has yogurt in it." She reached over and grabbed the hand Santana was using to hold the camera and turned it on herself saying, "Get the camera off of her, San. Stop being a jerk. You made your point. Mercedes, you can't just dive into the deep end on Indian food. When they say it's spicy, they don't play."

"Why didn't you say that before?" Mercedes asked.

"I'm pretty sure all of us tried," Santana said, "We all recommended the curry mild for you as a beginner, but no you had to have the spiciest thing on the menu."

Brittany commandeered the camera from Santana and said, "By the way, we're at Udupi Palace at 2543 West Devon Avenue in Chicago and the Tandoori Chicken and the Baigan Bharta are beyond words." She fixed the camera on the two plates in front of her and Santana, their shared meal. Then she flipped the camera around pointing it at Sam's food. "Sam's got the Chicken Tikka Masala which I haven't stolen any of... yet."

"And you're not going to," he said.

"Keep telling yourself that, Sammy Boy," Brittany responded before moving on to Mercedes plate, "And that monstrosity is the Chicken Vindaloo, which is all Mercedes' assuming she can even take another bite of it."

"Just turn the camera off and eat," Mercedes said. Brittany did as asked. "I don't mind the camera most of the time but I don't really want it on while I'm tryin to eat, y'know."

"No worries," Brittany said pointedly putting the camcorder in her bag and moving the bag around to the opposite side of her from Santana.

"So why didn't you want the room to yourselves?" Santana said apropos of nothing.

"Cuz I been cooped up in there every bit as much as you," Mercedes said, "Longer even, since I didn't leave to make your PSA. I wanted to get out as much as you."

"But why wouldn't you want to be alone with your boyfriend?"

"Leave it alone, Santana," Mercedes said.

"I'm just saying there's no telling when we're going to give you the opportunity again."

"I-" Mercedes stopped and started. "I just..."

"Mercedes, you don't have to answer that," Brittany said abruptly, "Santana can you come the bathroom with me, please? Right now?" She stood and walked away from the table without looking back. Santana looked confused momentarily before wiping her mouth and standing to follow. 

Moments later, when she made it to the restroom, Brittany was standing there with her arms folded across her abdomen. "Britt, what gives?"

"They're not having sex," Brittany said, "Something about it makes Mercedes uncomfortable, maybe it's her body, maybe they already did something and it wasn't good. I don't know, but I can tell they're not having sex."

"Honey, Sammy Evans was the last dude I ever had sex with so I tell you for certain that it's not him."

"Okay, whatever," Brittany said, "That's not my point anyway. Their sex life is their business, not yours. You can't be like this with them."

"Like what?"

"Like you're being," Brittany said, "Nosing into things that don’t concern you and being a jerk to them. This isn't like high school. They can't just walk away from you whenever they want. They're stuck with us for the next three weeks, same car, same hotel room."

"Britt," Santana said.

"Don't Britt me, Santana," Brittany said, "We're only three days into this trip and you're already pissing them off. You've gotta learn what boundaries are. If they say to leave them alone about something, then leave them alone."

"They know me," Santana said, "They know I keep it real. They knew what they were signing up for when they agreed to this."

"Okay, do what you want, Santana, but before you do, you should maybe think about whether it's more important to you to keep it real or to have actual friends," Brittany said, "cuz I don't think you're gonna be able to do both forever." Santana stood silently, obviously thinking about what Brittany said. Brittany closed the distance between them and kissed Santana lightly on the forehead. "I love you,” she said before leaving the bathroom.

She made it back to their table to find that Sam and Mercedes had switched dishes and were munching away. Brittany wordlessly settled into her chair and quickly fished the camcorder back out of her bag quickly handing it off to Sam who smiled at her conspiratorially. They continued eating in silence for several minutes before Santana eventually made her way back to the table. Sam ever so discreetly raised the camera just above the top of the table, pointing it at her.

Santana stopped standing at the gap between hers and Brittany’s chairs and looked at Sam and Mercedes. She opened her mouth to speak but no sounds came out. She closed her eyes and sighed before saying, “I suck.” No one moved or said anything. “I'm a shitty friend and I'm sorry for being a bitch.”

Mercedes studied Santana for a long few seconds before finally saying, “You are so whipped.”

Santana sat back down and said simply, “Yeah, well… you would be too.” She looked over to Sam to get his take on her apology only to finally notice the camera in his hands. “Oh hell, this is going to end up on the fucking internet, isn’t it.”

“Honey, I'm a documentarian, not a propagandist,” Brittany said, “So yes, it’s gonna be on the internet. Don’t worry though, it will only humanize you, make you more relatable. It will just make people love you more.”

Santana just rolled her eyes, “What’s say we finish this up and go find us a karaoke bar or something where we can get our sing on? I need a vocal workout.”

“Hell to the yeah!”


	7. Day Four – Familial Embarrassment

**Chapter 7**

**Day Four – Familial Embarrassment**

“We’re driving today,” Santana said into the camera that she was holding on herself, “Chicago to St. Louis, a three hundred mile trip, and because Brittany won’t let me drive, it’s going to take the whole five hours that it normally takes to get there.”

“It’s for your own good,” Brittany called from the driver’s seat.

“Says you,” Santana muttered under her breath, “Anyway since you got a dose of answers to your questions from Brittany and Sam yesterday, we thought we’d give you some more today. Now let me show you this set up we’ve got rigged here.” Santana turned the camera towards the gap in the front seats. “We’ve got a power inverter running out of the DC port, plugged into that we’ve got my laptop and Mercedes’ phone, functioning as a mobile hotspot.” She turned the camera to the back passenger side seat. “And here we have, the only one of us with halfway decent penmanship, the beautiful Mercedes Jones copying down your questions so that we can work off-line because I'm sure running this many electronics in this small a car can’t be safe.”

“You’re paranoid,” Sam said.

“And yet, you very pointedly said you weren’t going to hold it while your much better half took notes,” Santana replied.

“Y’all chill the hell out,” Mercedes said, “I got two pages of questions here. That oughta be enough to do at least until we stop for lunch. You can unhook all this non-sense.” She closed the laptop as Sam began unplugging everything. “The first question is for you, Santana,” she said, “and it is ‘What is your background?’”

“Is that all that the question says?” Santana asked as she turned the camera on herself.

“Yep,” Mercedes said.

“I'm going to assume you’re asking about my ethnic heritage, whoever you are,” Santana said looking into the camera, “because the background on my sexuality is a lot longer than I’d care to get into right now. I am of mixed, largely Hispanic heritage. My mom is mostly Cuban with a little bit of Spanish. My dad is a first generation American child of Dominican immigrants. My grandparents on that side, like most Dominicans are multiracial black/white/Hispanic, so genetically I'm kind of just a bit of everything, but I identify as Latina since both sides of my family are from Spanish speaking countries.”

“She’s my little melting pot,” Brittany said laughing.

Santana rolled her eyes but said nothing to Brittany, instead grabbing Mercedes’ notes with her free hand. “Question number two says, ’Brittany and Sam look pretty adorable together in this video. Mercedes, Santana is there ever any jealousy on your parts towards their relationship with one another?’ Uh, no,” Santana said, “Because there’s no reason to be jealous. First of all, Brittany has no reason to step out on me. I take care of all of her needs.”

“That’s true,” Brittany confirmed.

“Secondly, Sam’s a friend and wouldn’t do that to any of us,” Santana said.

“That’s true,” Sam said.

“Third,” Santana said, “Sam knows that I would kick his lily white ass, if he so much as tried anything.”

“That’s true, too,” Mercedes chimed in.

“Mercedes?” Santana asked turning the camera on her.

“What?” she responded.

“Do _you_ get jealous over Brittany and Sam’s friendship?” Santana prodded.

Mercedes looked out the window of the car watching the world whip by as the question just hung in the air between the four of them unanswered. Mercedes didn’t like the answer she knew she was about to have to give but there it was anyway. “Sometimes,” she said softly closing her eyes, angry at herself.

“Cedes,” Sam said as he reached back to take her hand in his.

“No,” she said, “You ain’t gotta say it. It’s not you. I know you’d never do anything like that to me, you or Brittany. It’s just stupid, irrational teenage insecurity stuff.” She turned to look into the camera and said, “When you’re younger and you struggle with things like feeling like you aren’t good enough, you look forward to growing up so you don’t have to deal with it anymore, but the truth is those feelings don’t just go away magically on your eighteenth birthday or when you graduate high school. You still have to deal with it until you find a way to move past it, so learn from this and start working on moving past it now.”

“Cedes,” Brittany said, “You know we all think you’re beautiful, right?”

“Yeah,” Mercedes answered, “and I know that I'm beautiful… most of the time, but you’re everything that society tells us is beautiful: tall, skinny, blonde, blue eyes, smiling, perky, white. When you’re none of those things, like me, it’s easy sometimes to look at the two of you goofing off and having fun and think, he’s gonna figure out that I'm not worth the hassle. It’s irrational. I don’t really think like that when I really sit down and _think,_ like I said just dumb insecurities.”

Sam undid his seatbelt and turned around in his seat. “Honey, being with you isn’t a hassle,” he said, “but if it was, then you would still be worth it.”

“Thanks Sam,” Mercedes said. She undid her seatbelt as well and closed the distance between them. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” he said just in time for Mercedes to press her lips to his.

She broke off again after only a few seconds sitting back down. “Now put your seatbelt back on before we get a ticket,” she said, “We ain’t made of money… yet.”

“Next question,” Santana said tossing the notebook into Sam’s lap just as he was trying to secure his seatbelt.

________________

“I feel weird taking your car and leaving you here,” Brittany said, “I mean it’s _your_ car.” The four of them were standing at the open hatchback of the car pulling Mercedes and Sam’s bags out.

“Yeah, but it’s just for tonight,” Mercedes said, “and I'm tired of being in the car anyway. I don’t want to drive all the way across the city to drop y’all off and then all the way back. Take the car, enjoy visiting Santana’s family, and be back here tomorrow for the biggest lunch your skinny asses ever had, okay?”

“Is there gonna be mac and cheese?” Brittany asked.

“Yes,” Mercedes confirmed for the fourth time, “and mashed potatoes and coleslaw and green beans and cake and probably a pie of some kind.”

“Awesome,” Brittany said, “And then some sort of huge workout to burn all that off.”

“We worked out yesterday,” Santana said, “We’re fine. Now let’s go, I’ve got a surprise for you at Abuela Ida’s house.”

They loaded back into Mercedes’ Prius and drove off while Sam and Mercedes lugged their bags up the walk towards the front door. Mercedes rang the doorbell which was met immediately by the sounds of a dog barking. “Michael, get that dog back,” they heard from the other side of the door. It swung open to reveal an older woman with a similar sense of style to Mercedes. “Why are you ringing my doorbell, child, you know you’re welcome to walk in. Get in here.”

“Hi, Aunt Patti,” Mercedes said as they hugged on her way in, “This is Sam.”

“Good to meecha,” Patti said, “Get in here, before we let all the cool air out. Cedes, your grandmamma is in the kitchen prepping for lunch tomorrow. Please go tell her she don’t have to make every dish she knows.”

“Right,” Mercedes said, “And then I’ll go tell the sun not to come up while I'm at it.” They walked through the family room just inside the front door into the kitchen. “Hey, y’all,” Mercedes said addressing the two people working in the kitchen: one a short older woman, obviously Mercedes’ grandmamma and a tall (taller than Sam) skinny boy.

“There’s mah grandgirl,” Grandmamma said, her voice thick with a Southern accent. She pulled Mercedes in for a tight hug, her face lighting up over Mercedes’ shoulder. “How you doin, sunshine?”

Mercedes eventually pulled back and said, “I'm doing real good. Grandmamma, this is my boyfriend, Sam. Sam this is my grandmamma, Leona Travis.” Sam stuck out his hand to greet her but she brushed his hand aside and yanked him into her for hug of his own. He smiled and hugged her back.

“Ooooh, sunshine, you done got you a strong man,” Leona said.

“Yeah, he’s alright,” Mercedes said smiling.

“You doin okay, Sam?” Leona asked.

“I'm doin just fine, ma’am,” he said, “It’s nice to finally meet you. Mercedes talks about you all the time.”

“You hear that, Michael,” she said to the boy standing silently in the room, “Glad somebody around here got some manners. Sam, this is my grandson, Michael. If you could teach him that word, ma’am, I’d be much obliged.”

Sam extended his hand Michael’s direction and said, "Michael, how you doin?"

Michael looked at Sam's hand and then back up at Sam without taking him up on the handshake and said, "Sup, man?" Sam dropped his hand back to his side.

"Michael Thomas Gregory," Leona barked at him, "That young man offered you his hand in friendship and he ain't done anything to earn your disrespect."

"White man dating my cousin," he said, "All the reason I need."

Mercedes and Sam stood frozen is surprise. Mercedes was absolutely not expecting anything like this out of Michael or anyone else in her family. She knew for a fact that Michael had grown up white friends. Suddenly she was shuttering to think about what lunch tomorrow would be like.

They were snapped out of it by Patti slapping Michael in the back of his head. "Son of mine, you won't disrespect guests in my house. I won't have it. You know and I know that you were raised better than to hate anyone much less for the color of their skin. Sam, Mercedes, I'm sorry about him. Michael and a bunch of his friends started walking around in baggy clothes and now they think they're thugs."

"Wonder how much of a thug he'd feel like if I put my foot up his backside," Leona said. Michael looked at his grandmother dubiously. "Think I can't," she said, "just try me." Michael turned and walked out of the kitchen door and out of the house. If he'd had a tail it would have been tucked between his legs.

"I'm sorry about him," Patti said, "I don't know what I did to make him be like that."

"It's not your fault," Mercedes said, "He's a kid. We do dumb stuff sometimes."

"He's not a kid," Patti said, "He's almost twenty."

“We were actually just talkin today about how we don’t stop being kids just because we reach a certain age,” Mercedes said, “I’m sure between the two of you, he’ll get his head straightened out before he does something to end up in jail.”

“I ain’t sweatin jail, honey,” Patti said, “Spending a couple days in jail might do him a world of good. I’m worried on them running up against some real thugs and I end up having to burying my only son.”

“It won’t come to that,” Mercedes said confidently, although she wasn’t really.

________________

It took almost an hour for Santana and Brittany to get across St. Louis in afternoon traffic, but they did eventually make it. As they drove through the neighborhood where Abuela Ida lived, Santana took stock of just how very much Lima Heights didn't qualify as a barrio and decided she probably shouldn't try that line on anyone outside of Lima. Not that this neighborhood was terribly dangerous, just worse than anything the girls' hometown had to offer.

Santana turned up the driveway to her abuela's house and sitting beside the open garage was someone very familiar to both Brittany and Santana. Brittany's eyes widened as she turned to look Santana for confirmation, "Izzy's here?"

"Surprise," Santana said with a smile that Brittany quickly matched. Isobel Lopez was technically Santana's cousin but both Brittany and Santana considered her an older sister since she'd been raised by Santana's parents after her father was killed in the first Gulf War and her mother had been debilitated by cancer. Six years older than Santana, she and her cousin bore striking physical similarities. Isobel was a little taller with a somewhat rounder face and curly hair. Izzy had been the first through the meat grinder that was William McKinley High and the one to advise the girls that they should join the Cheerios to avoid much of the hell that school could be to those not at the top.

No sooner had Santana brought the car to a stop than Brittany was throwing her seatbelt off and pushing her way out of the car. She raced around the car and into Izzy's waiting arms. "What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting to see you until San Francisco. I've got us scheduled three days there so we can have plenty of time to hang out."

"Well this is just a bonus then, isn't it?" Izzy said. "I don't have anything important tomorrow so I thought I'd come see mi abuela and mis hermanas. Is that okay?"

"Of course it's okay," Brittany gushed. "Better than okay."

"Hola hermana," Izzy said pulling Santana in for a hug. She let go a moment later and looked at her confused before flat out grabbed one of Santana's breasts.

"Hey!" Santana said swatting her hand away. "Izzy, what the fuck?"

"I could say the same thing," Izzy replied, "You got a fucking boob job? What the hell is wrong with you? You know how dangerous surgery is. What the hell was Papi thinking letting...?"

"IZZY!" Santana shouted her down, "Will you let me explain?"

"Yes, please explain why you of all people, Miss C-cup-in-the-Seventh-Grade, felt you needed a fucking boob job before you even turned twenty!"

"There was a lump," Santana said.

"WHAT?” Izzy’s face instantly lost all color. “And _this_ is the first I'm hearing about it?"

"It was _benign_ ," Santana said, "Nothing worth getting the family worried about, but because of our family history we sat down with the oncologist and talked about it and ultimately I decided to get rid of them. Now I got new ones and yeah I jumped from a C to a double D, so what?"

"I'm sorry I yelled," Izzy said.

"You were looking out for me," Santana said, "Now come on, we stand here any longer and Abuela's gonna wonder what we were doing out here so long and I'd rather not have to tell her that you were groping me."

Brittany and Santana turned to go into the house but Izzy didn't follow them so they stopped again and looked back. "You coming?"

"And you're sure you're okay?" Izzy asked looking like she was fighting off tears.

Santana nodded. She knew where Izzy’s head was. Breast cancer had taken Izzy’s mother and one of their aunts. Another one of their aunts, their abuela, and Santana’s mother were all breast cancer survivors. So the notion of it possibly taking her dear cousin who was more like a little sister was just too much. "It's been two years,” Santana said, “and no other signs. I get regular check-ups."

"And Brittany you check yourself regularly?" Izzy said since Brittany was every bit the little sister to her as well, "At least once a month?"

"Yeah, at least," Brittany said, "After we found her lump, I started checking myself almost every day for like a year. Then I cut back to like once a week. Plus, Santana feels them a lot for the same reasons, well, and for fun reasons too, but she checks me out. She doesn't want to lose me."

"Are _you_ okay?" Santana asked of Izzy.

"I...yeah, I'm okay," she said, "I mean I'm probably going to check myself a dozen times over the next couple weeks..."

"Oh, do you need a hand with that?" Santana offered raising her hand to grab at Izzy who swatted the hand away playfully.

"Stop," she said, "I'm okay. I wish you'd have told me about it when it happened."

"I know," Santana said, "I wanted to. I was going to but you had just finished your undergrad and you were going off to Cancun with your friends. I knew if I told you, that you would have come back to Lima instead and I didn't want to ruin your vacation."

Izzy sighed heavily and brought her hands up to either side of Santana's face, bringing her head down so that their foreheads touched. "You silly, selfless girl, you are so much more important to me than fucking Cancun could ever be. Do you understand me?"

"I know I just wanted you to go have fun and by the time you were back I was mostly healed and I didn't really know how to tell you after that."

Izzy let go of Santana's head and they distanced themselves slightly. "Brittany, you guys are finally official, right?"

"Yep," Brittany said with a proud smile.

"Then, as her better, _much_ smarter half, you can finally, officially tell her what to do," Izzy said, "And I need you to promise me that you'll make her call me if anything like this ever happens again. I don't care if I'm in the middle of my fucking finals or closing a billion dollar business deal."

"Got it," Brittany said.

"Okay, bring it in," Izzy said, "I need a hug and then we'll go in." Brittany hugged Izzy immediately and dragged in Santana who was already moving that direction. "Te amo, mis preciosas."

"Te amo," they said back in unison.

________________

“Miss us already?” Santana said into her phone as she settled down onto the porch swing out front of the house.

“Just callin to give y’all a heads up,” Mercedes replied, “Apparently, my cousin Michael has decided that he’s not cool with interracial relationships, so I don’t know _what_ he’s gonna think of you guys. I don’t know. Maybe he’ll do everyone a favor and not show up tomorrow.” There was a long pause before she continued, “God, that’s a horrible thing to say. Does that make me a bad person? That I don’t want my own cousin, who I haven’t seen in over a year, to not come to lunch?”

“I’m not the person to ask what does and doesn’t make you a bad person, Cedes,” Santana said, “But since you asked, I don’t think that you should have to coddle the feelings of those who can’t or won’t respect yours. That being said, if us being there is going to disrupt the little bit of family time you get we can make other plans for tomorrow.”

“No,” Mercedes countered quickly, “Hell no. I done already told Grandmamma you was gonna be here, so you’re gonna be here. I already helped prep all this food, you’re damn well gonna come enjoy some of the best eating we’re probably gonna have this whole trip. Michael can just shut his damn mouth or be somewhere else. Grandmamma ain’t gonna have any problems with you, Aunt Patti or Uncle Desmond either. Plus there’s this great big German Sheppard over here for Brittany to geek out over.”

“Oh yeah? She’ll love that. What’s his name?”

“Bigby,” Mercedes said.

“Maybe you can pray for Michael when you go to church later,” Santana said.

“We’re already back from church,” Mercedes said, “And I did, and I will again at bedtime.”

Santana pulled the phone away from her head to check the time. “Wow, later than I thought.”

“So tell me your family reunion got off to a better start than mine.”

“Well it started off fairly awkward when my older sister started…”

“You have a sister?” Mercedes interrupted.

“Isobel,” Santana said, “Well, she’s my cousin, but she’s six years older than me and my parents raised her from when she was about eight so she’s always been like my big sister. She’ll be at lunch, you’ll meet her. But anyway, I haven’t seen her since she went off to grad school in California two years ago and the first thing she does when she sees me is fucking tag second on me.”

“Second, as in second base?”

“Felt me up,” Santana confirmed, “Right in the driveway of my grandmother’s house.”

“What the hell?”

“That was my first reaction,” Santana laughed, “But turns out that she figured out about…” She trailed off and sighed. “You know, it’s long past time we had this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“Cedes, you know I love you like family, right?”

“Yeah,” Mercedes said clearly unsure where this was going, “I love you too.”

“Do you know how to do a breast cancer self-examination?”

“Um, not really,” Mercedes said, “Why you askin me this?”

“You know I got implants the summer after sophomore year, right?” Santana said.

“I think most people at our school do.”

“Yeah, but now I need to tell you why…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: 1 in 8 women will develop breast cancer in their lifetime and while it’s highest incidence rate is in older women, it never hurts to start checking early. Make it a lifelong habit. You don’t have to be in a family like Santana’s need to check. 85% of all breast cancers develop in people without family histories.
> 
> Sorry to get all preachy, but there are three women in my family who have suffered through this horrible disease, one of them just went in to get her third tumor removed last week.


End file.
